Summer Story
by Arnel 63
Summary: Story three in the Gifts Series. Summer at the Dursleys' is typical for Harry Potter who has learned that his role as "savior" of the Wizarding world is more complicated than he though and that he needs others more than he ever imagined.
1. 1 London

**Summer Story**

**Chapter 1: London**

Harry heaved a sigh of relief as Ron took the trolley holding Hedwig's empty cage and his trunk from him and led the way through the barrier. Just pushing the awkward thing a few meters had sapped his strength a lot more than he'd bargained for. Throwing his weight at the handle had caused him to bang his newly-healed left arm and ribs painfully against it.

_So much for staying pain-free for the day,_ he grumbled to himself as he followed Ron.

"Thanks, Ron," he said gratefully as they emerged from the barrier onto the platform at King's Cross and began looking for the Dursleys. "I'm still amazed at the things that can beat me right now."

"'s nothing, mate," Ron said. "Promise me you'll let us know when you're settled?"

Harry grinned at his friend, then shaking his head he said, "Like sister, like brother. I've promised to owl Ginny. She wants to know when I'm 'safe'."

"Good for her," Ron said, scanning the people nearby. "Do you see them?"

"Over there," Harry said, inclining his head to the left.

Harry's relatives stood a little way down the platform towards the entrance to the station. Ron pushed the trolley in their direction and soon stood in front of Uncle Vernon. Harry followed at a slower pace.

"Well, it's about time," Uncle Vernon groused. "You're lucky we've waited for you."

"Hello, Uncle Vernon. Nice to see you, too," Harry said.

His uncle blustered, "Now don't get cheeky with me, boy. I won't have you mouthing off to me every ten seconds." When Harry didn't answer right away he demanded, "What's that sling for? Some sort of prank to get me to let you off doing chores?"

Ron looked uncomfortable as Harry answered quietly, "I've had surgery on my shoulder."

Aunt Petunia took the opportunity to speak up. "We'll discuss this in the car." Her sharp eyes descended on Ron. "Well, oughtn't _you_ be going? We're leaving."

Ron's ears turned red as he straightened up and stepped close to the Dursleys. "I think," he said slowly, "that you want to show Harry a little respect. He nearly died trying to protect people when our school got attacked this year. He's been through the wringer, and he's going to spend the summer resting."

Uncle Vernon's piggy eyes narrowed and his complexion grew horribly mottled as Ron spoke. "Now see here," he spat. "I'm not having you weirdoes telling me what I can and cannot do in my own house. That boy has been a burden to us since the moment he arrived, and he's bloody well going to earn his ke…"

Ron bumped up against Uncle Vernon, towering over him, and discreetly pulled his wand from his pocket, pointing it menacingly at the big man's stomach. "I'd be a bit more polite, if I were you," he said in a flat, emotionless tone. "Harry has a lot of friends from school, and we're going to be keeping a close watch to make sure he's okay this summer, just like we did last year. It'd be such a pity if there was a… misunderstanding."

Aunt Petunia's mouth opened and closed repeatedly, but no sound came out. Vernon looked as though he'd like nothing better than to bum rush Ron but seemed to think the better of it. Dudley was oddly quiet as the conflict played out before him.

Ron turned back to Harry and extended his hand. "Take care, Harry. And make sure to send Hedwig right away. Ginny will be waiting for her."

"I will," Harry promised. He turned, jerked his head first at Dudley, then at the trolley and walked passed Uncle Vernon towards the entrance. Halfway there he turned to see whether Dudley was actually pushing the trolley and saw Ron still standing where they'd left him. The two exchanged one last, melancholy little wave and then Ron walked back through the barrier. Sighing desolately, Harry led the way out onto the street.

The car ride back to Privet Drive seemed endless as Uncle Vernon's newest company car wove its way along the carriage way toward Little Whinging. Harry had given the letter Madam Pomfrey had written about his injuries and subsequent "surgery" to Aunt Petunia and she was now muttering her way through it.

"No strenuous pushing or pulling for six weeks... tasks to be done with his right hand only... lots of bed rest!... she even has a list of foods he's supposed to eat... keep his strength up... What does she think I am... a maidservant? I should think not!" She turned in her seat and skewered Harry with her eyes. "And just how long are you going to be a good-for-nothing lay-about in my house? Hmmm?"

Harry glared icily back at her. "Two weeks at the most," he said. "But most likely only one."

"TWO WEEKS! You're just like your lazy, no-good father! I will _not_ wait on you hand and foot for two weeks! Do you hear me?"

"You'd wait on Dudley," Harry mumbled under his breath, resentment at her characterization of his father making his stomach turn. "And my father _wasn't_ lazy."

Apparently Aunt Petunia had heard him for she said icily, "As far as I'm concerned he was! No steady job, just a no-good wastrel... You may have your arm in a sling, but you will still help with the chores. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," he agreed, just to satisfy his aunt. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of his seat. He hated feeling this weak, but the train ride back to London had exhausted him and all he really wanted to do at the moment was sleep. His aunt, on the other hand, had other ideas.

"Now tell me just who will be coming for you and when," she demanded.

"Professor Dumbledore told me he will be coming himself," Harry said without opening his eyes. "He'll send an ow—write to me a day or two before he comes with the exact time he'll appear on your doorstep."

"Well, he'd better not come through the fireplace again," Uncle Vernon said vehemently, taking the exit that led to Little Whinging. "And he'd better not bring any more of those elf-whatsits like he did last summer. It let in all sorts of vermin that took us six months to get rid of!"

Harry shook his head, remembering Dumbledore's visit last August when he'd learned the terms of Sirius' will. That information, coupled with Kreacher's appearance, had been more than he'd wanted to handle; he hoped there would be no surprises like that this time around.

When Harry didn't answer right away his uncle demanded, "Well, will it be contaminating my house again?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "I was told just to expect a letter detailing his arrival time. I'm supposed to be packed and ready to go as I'll not be coming back ever again. That's all I know."

His aunt and uncle both sighed loudly, but neither made further comment as the car pulled into the drive of four Privet Drive.

Instead, Aunt Petunia climbed out and pointed at the front door as Uncle Vernon opened the boot. "Get your things and get them upstairs. I expect you have laundry to do, so clear out that trunk of yours and get the machine going. I'll not have you waking us at all hours because you're running the washer yourself when you can't sleep." She disappeared down the garden path, following Uncle Vernon and Dudley and leaving Harry standing next to the boot, a look of dismay on his face. There was no way he could lift the heavy trunk with only one arm without using magic.

A hand suddenly pushed him roughly aside and heaved the trunk out of the boot. "Mum made me come back to help you," Dudley grumbled by way of explanation. "She doesn't want you standing out here all night. The neighbours will talk." He grasped the side handles and started for the door. "Get that cage and shut the boot. You're not that helpless," he called over his shoulder at Harry.

Harry did what he was told and followed Dudley up to his room. Dudley placed Harry's trunk at the foot of the bed as he entered. "Thanks," Harry murmured, walking wearily to his bed and collapsing on it. He closed his eyes and struggled to get comfortable on the thin mattress, involuntarily hissing with pain when he bumped his left arm against his bedside table.

Harry breathed out slowly as the pain receded. He relaxed and felt sleep beginning to claim him when the creak of a floorboard caused him to open his eyes. Dudley was standing near the door, staring at his cousin with an unfathomable expression.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Harry spoke. "Thanks for bringing my trunk up," he said tiredly.

"So what happened to you?" Dudley asked, ignoring Harry's thanks. "You look like you've been in some kind of brawl, from what your friend said." Harry started, wondering about Dudley's tone. _Was it curiosity? Admiration? A hint of concern_?

Harry slowly sat up on the bed. "Yeah, I was," he replied.

"Tell me about it. I want to hear everything," Dudley said eagerly, scooting back against the wall.

Harry eyed his cousin warily, trying to decipher his motives. _Dudley's never shown interest in anything I've ever done in the Wizarding world. I've always been a target for his bullying, a convenient punching bag... Maybe that's it... Perhaps he thinks the battle was just a simple brawl instead of the life and death struggle it really was! If he's trying to understand me I suppose I should at least try to explain what happened... but I really don't want to._

Knowing Dudley wouldn't leave until he got what he wanted – and none too keen at the prospect of being his cousin's punching bag – Harry resignedly gave him an abbreviated accounting of the battle for Hogsmeade. Dudley listened raptly, sometimes demanding more detail than Harry was comfortable offering; this finally caused him to get up and pace the room. The bigger boy sat back, stunned, as Harry finished the story.

"I never knew you people fought with those... things," Dudley said, pointing at the wand sticking out of Harry's pocket. "That's really cool!"

Harry stared at Dudley, unsure how to take this sudden interest his cousin had in his life. "I suppose it is," he said slowly. "But casting spells with a wand is no different than maiming or killing someone with a gun. People get hurt either way."

Dudley appeared taken aback by those words. "Yeah, I guess so…" he replied in a rather unconvincing tone. Harry squirmed inwardly, suspecting that Dudley was enthralled with wands in the same way he'd been thrilled with the air rifle he once used to shoot squirrels. He saw the wands as toys and didn't really grasp the consequences of their misuse.

Harry rubbed his sore shoulder and glanced at the clock on his bedside table. He needed to take one of the pain potions Madam Pomfrey had sent with him. He fumbled in his pocket for his key, walked over to the trunk and unlocked it. He shoved aside some laundry and pulled out a small vial of pain potion, which he struggled to uncork. Dudley suddenly grew impatient with Harry's fumbling.

"Oh for crying out loud, give it here," he said, snatching the vial from Harry's hands and uncorking it before handing it back. "I don't see how all of _your people_ can regard you as such a bloody hero if you're going to let a little thing like shoulder pain you down."

Irritation welled up inside Harry, but he shoved it aside. "Thanks," he said stiffly before downing the potion. A blissful numbness enveloped Harry's shoulder, and suddenly Dudley's barb didn't matter.

Dudley studied his cousin for a moment. "That stuff works quick, huh?" he asked. Harry nodded, a slight smile gracing his lips as he moved back to the bed. "I sure could use some stuff like that after a few rounds in the ring at Smeltings," Dudley said.

Harry eased back onto the bed and lay down. He and Dudley gazed at each other for a moment. "So," Dudley said. "Let's see this scar you've picked up."

Harry blinked dazedly. Was this just a side-effect of the potion? This was the weirdest experience he'd ever had on Privet Drive.

"Why?" he asked.

"I dunno," Dudley replied. "Might be something to see a real Wizarding combat scar."

"No."

"Why not?" Dudley replied, sounding irked.

"I have to take my sling off and I can't move my arm very well."

"Oi, don't be such a baby. I'll help you," Dudley said, coming to stand in front of Harry.

"I'm just not in the mood Big D," Harry shot back.

For an instant, anger flared in Dudley's eyes. Then he suddenly began to unbutton his shirt. "Want to see my scar?" he asked tossing off his long-sleeve shirt without waiting for a reply. Harry was surprised to see that Dudley had trimmed up a bit and grown more muscular over the past year.

Dudley then rolled up the sleeve of his t-shirt to reveal a nasty looking ridge of puckered pink flesh running from his upper right arm to his shoulder. "Got it sparring in the ring one day," he said as though showing off a trophy. "Took a right hook that knocked me into one of the ring posts. The padding had slipped and a bolt head was sticking out. Took seven stitches to get it closed up."

Dudley rolled his eyes. "I thought Mum would faint when she saw it after I got home." Putting his shirt back on, he turned to face Harry. "So c'mon, let's see it… Unless this is just some gimmick you've cooked up to fool Mum and Dad."

There was no way Harry could let that challenge go. Slowly, stiffly he sat up and began removing his shirt, but couldn't move his bad arm properly to get it off. Dudley heaved a loud sigh, walked over and gently helped him. The shirt came off, and Dudley stared at the ropey pink scar that ran across Harry's left shoulder and halfway down his bicep.

"Wicked," Dudley said in an awe-struck voice. Once again, Harry felt irritated at being treated like an object in a museum. He certainly hadn't _asked_ for any of the events that led up getting the scar.

"So," Dudley said as Harry began to get dressed. "This, uh, Whatshername from your school. Does she want you to do rehabilitation exercises like the coaches do at Smeltings?"

Harry felt the pain potion kick in a bit more and couldn't resist cracking a grin. "Yeah, she does."

"So what's she want you to do?" Dudley said.

Harry wandered back over to his trunk, buttoning his shirt as he went. "I've got an instruction sheet to remind me what I'm supposed to do every morning." He rummaged in his trunk for the bag containing the post and handed the instruction sheet to Dudley. As Dudley scanned it Harry removed the set of rubber bands and the post and looked around for a suitable place to adhere it to the floor. As the post automatically enlarged, Harry selected the right spot and anchored it in place.

"These look right," Dudley said, handing the paper back. "She knows what she's doing for you."

"How do you know?" Harry asked curiously.

"My dorm mate dislocated his shoulder skiing over the Christmas hols and had to do nearly the same exercises as these until the end of term. I sort of became his unofficial trainer," Dudley explained.

After a moment of silence Dudley coughed and then shot a tough look at Harry. "If you want, I can get you whipped back into shape," he said.

Harry tucked in his shirt as best he could and stared at his cousin. _He really wants to help,_ he marvelled. _I'll believe it when I see it. _To Dudley he remarked, "I dunno. Won't your parents think it strange if you help me?"

Dudley smirked conspiratorially. "I won't tell if you won't," he said. Harry hesitated, and Dudley smirked again. "Better think it over, Potter. You look like you can use all the help you can get, especially if you're going to do any more… what is it, duelling?"

Sensing that Harry was still nervous about Vernon and Petunia's reactions, Dudley's face softened just a bit. "Look, as long as we wait until Dad leaves, Mum won't bother us until she's ready for breakfast. Also, if you're not too sore you should do the exercises before bed, too. You'll build up your strength faster."

Harry fitted the sling over his elbow and managed to pass the strap over his good shoulder, but had trouble threading the end through the loops of the buckle one-handed. He looked up as Dudley took the end from him saying, "Let me do this; Robert always needed help with this part."

"Thanks, Dudley," Harry said tiredly when his cousin finished. He lay down on his bed as Uncle Vernon's voice rattled the windows from downstairs.

"Boy! Get down here and help with dinner!"

_I don't want to, _Harry thought, although knew that making the effort to go downstairs would keep peace in the family. He pushed himself upright as Hedwig flew into the room. She squawked loudly when she saw Dudley and quickly landed on top of her cage. Dudley backed up towards the door, more to give her flying room than anything else.

"It's all right, Hedwig," Harry murmured softly to his owl. "Dudley and I have been talking, is all. No harm done. Could you take a note to Ginny, please?"

Hedwig bobbed her head and waited for Harry to write his note as the summons from downstairs was repeated, this time in angrier tones.

Dudley glanced over his shoulder into the hallway. "I'll be back," he said and disappeared down the stairs. A moment later, Harry heard loud voices from downstairs.

"Dad, I don't think he's going to be up to this tonight," Dudley was saying.

"What on earth are you talking about? That freak can at least come downstairs and set the table."

Dudley said something Harry couldn't hear, and then added in a louder voice, "He's hurt his shoulder badly, just like Robert did over Christmas. You push him too hard and it'll undo what the surgeons fixed and he'll never use his arm again. You want him to get well and leave, you'd better let him rest. I'm serious, Dad."

"I don't know what Potter's done to you to make you defend him like this, but I'll have none of it! You go up there and drag his sorry hide down here before I do it for him!"

"Knock it off, Dad!"

Aunt Petunia sounded angry as she said, "Dudley, do as you're told and go get your cousin. Your father and I will decide what happens around here."

Harry finished his message and attached it to Hedwig's leg as Dudley came stomping loudly up the stairs. As she took off, he met Dudley at the door.

Dudley merely shrugged his shoulders and grunted. "I tried," he said before ambling down the hall to his room.

"Thanks," Harry said to his retreating back. "I'd better go down before Uncle Vernon comes up."

Harry slowly descended the steps. _I can't wait to get out of here!_ he thought, entering the kitchen. He glanced at his uncle and nearly said something defiant he would surely regret later.

"Set the table. You look fit enough to do that," Aunt Petunia snapped from where she stood at the counter tossing a salad. "You're part of this family."

_Yeah, right. _Harry thought, glancing at his sling. Silently, he gathered the plates and cutlery Aunt Petunia had lain out on the counter and began setting the table.

**End of Chapter 1**

A/N: I hope you have enjoyed this first chapter. I realize that Dudley seems a bit out of character here, but I wanted to give him the benefit of the two years he has had to ponder what the Dementors made him see and decide for himself whether his parents' approach to Harry is the best way to deal with him. Therefore, I had him start by reaching out and finding some sort of common ground. Harry's injuries from the battle in _New Year, New Hope_ are the easiest for Dudley to understand and make a good place to start. His prejudices against Harry run unfortunately deep and he remains the same shallow hulk of a boy his parents have fostered.

This story would not have been made possible without the ideas, suggestions and prodding of several people. First, I want to thank my pre-beta GhostWriter who originally prodded me into writing this sequel and who has been invaluable in helping me with Dudley's characterization. The nastier characters of the HP universe have always given me trouble and I appreciate GhostWriter's helpful suggestions for keeping Dudley in character. Second, I thank Aggiebell for her quick beta on this chapter so that the story could be posted prior to _Deathly Hallows_ coming out. Finally, I hope that you will find the time to leave me a review or two to let me know what you think of this chapter.


	2. 2 Coming Home

**Summer Story**

**Chapter 2: Coming Home**

Ginny and Ron entered The Burrow through the Floo. It seemed abrupt to Ginny that her parents had hurried off to an Order meeting rather than spending more time with their two youngest children on their first day home from school. But she understood the importance of everything Dumbledore was trying to do, and she and Ron were _certainly_ old enough to take care of themselves for the duration.

"Good to be back," Ron said, gazing around the sitting room as he lifted his broom from his trunk. "Do you want me to take your broom—" He stopped when he saw the look on her face. "Sorry, Ginny. I wasn't thinking."

Ginny smiled sadly, "That's all right. I know you meant well. I need to get my trunk upstairs." She drew her wand, pointed it at her trunk and started for the stairs.

Ron shut his trunk. "Ginny, wait," he called after her. "Let me do it. My broom can wait." With a huge grin, he began levitating the trunk up the stairs, leaving her in the empty kitchen. Ginny giggled as he commented, "I love being seventeen!"

Unpacking took very little time, and Ginny soon found herself sitting on her bed with nothing to occupy her. Mentally, she ticked off the items on her to-do list: Floo home, unpack, start laundry, wait for Hedwig. The first three had been accomplished easily enough; the hard part was waiting for Harry's owl. She was worried that the Dursleys would not pay attention to Madam Pomfrey's letter and require Harry to do chores that would harm him.

A flurry of wings caught her attention, and Ginny looked up as Pig zoomed in through her open window. He circled overhead once, then flew in tight circles in front of her door as if trying to tell her he wanted out. He had a small blue envelope she recognized as Hermione's favourite stationery attached to his leg. Smiling, Ginny rose and walked to the door. "Was my window the only way in, Pigwidgeon?" she asked the little owl as she let him out. "Go on, then. Ron will be waiting for Hermione's letter."

On a whim, Ginny followed Pig up the stairs to Ron's room. The lid to Ron's trunk was open and the floor was littered with a year's worth of belongings waiting to be stored away. Ron sat on his bed reading Hermione's letter, completely oblivious to Pig choking on an owl treat. He looked up as Ginny strode over to Pig's cage and unstuck his beak.

"What's up?"

"Hermione get home all right?"

"Yeah. She's going with her parents to Ireland for a week's holiday starting tomorrow. She says they are going to try to get tickets to a Balleycastle Bats match while they're there. She thinks her dad will like our sport. She's found a spell she can cast on her parents that will cancel the effects of the Muggle-Repelling spells on the stadium. I hope it works for her sake."

"Me, too. I'd love to see another match," Ginny mused wistfully, brushing Ron's dirty laundry off his desk chair and sitting down. "Maybe some day..."

"Yeah."

"Hedwig hasn't come yet."

"She will. It might take a little longer for them to drive home than it did us to take the Floo."

"I'll wait until dark before I start worrying," Ginny decided aloud.

Ron stood up. "Let's go for a walk," he suggested, folding his letter and stashing it in his bedside cabinet. "I could use one after sitting so long on the train."

"Let me grab my walking stick," she replied.

They set out through the back garden and headed toward the pond. As they neared the water, Ginny commented, "You and Hermione are getting along quite well these days."

Ron grinned. "I know we're not bickering as much as we were, if that's what you mean."

Ginny giggled. "True. She also seems to have glued herself to you, at least while we were on the train."

"It was really hard to say good bye. I didn't want her to leave," Ron admitted sheepishly. "I wish I'd had the courage to tell her sooner. We could have had loads of time together!"

"Yeah, but you're so chicken-hearted about sharing your feelings, you wouldn't have told Hermione if we hadn't had that little talk yesterday morning. You two would still be dancing around each other, avoiding your mutual attraction and annoying the rest of us with your stubbornness," she said. A smile graced her lips as she added, "At least this way everyone went home with the knowledge that next term will be a bit more peaceful in the common room!"

"Ginny! We were never that bad!" Ron protested. He stopped walking, looking worried.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Keep telling yourself that," she teased. "But I think some other couple will now have the chance to take your place as the most annoying couple in the common room." She didn't wait for his response, but took off at a slow jog, glorying in the thought that she could run away from Ron even if he'd catch her in two or three strides.

Ron grabbed her round the middle and swung her in a circle like he used to do when they were little.

"Put me down!" she demanded, laughing.

"Only if you take that back!"

"Never!" she squealed.

He spun them again, slipped on the grass and they tumbled towards the pond in a happy, tangled heap. Ginny was the first to stand and offered her hand. "That was fun!" she exclaimed, pulling Ron to his feet.

He grinned at her. "Yeah. Are you all right?"

Ginny picked up her walking stick and set off around the pond. "I'm fine, Ron. Really." She paused and glanced up shyly at her brother. "You haven't done that since before we went to Hogwarts. You make a good cushion."

"And a good pillow, according to Hermione," Ron replied, a faraway look flitting across his face.

Ginny giggled at the thought. "Harry thinks my lap makes a pretty good pillow, too," she said.

Ron made a gagging noise. "Spare me the gory details, please," he groaned.

They walked in silence for a while, Ron sometimes stooping to pick up stones, which he skipped across the pond. Ginny walked out onto the dock when they reached it and sat down to dangle her feet in the water. Ron sat next to her. His shadow caused the minnows in the pond to flee to deeper water. Ginny was sad to see them go; her good mood slipped away, too.

Finally, she asked pensively, "Is it just me or is Harry trying to distance himself from me?"

Ron raised an eyebrow. "What gave you that idea?"

"A lot of things, actually," she said, gazing out over the water, "but mostly how he's been acting lately. You know, sort of cagey about his meetings with Professor Dumbledore. Just this morning he told me he wasn't going to wear his phoenix very often this summer." She looked at Ron expectantly. "I know something is up, Ron, and I don't like being kept in the dark."

Ron glanced away, looking uncomfortable. "Harry's just found out the extent of his responsibilities in this war, Ginny," he said gravely. "They're dangerous to him and anyone who knows what they are. The fewer people who know the better. He only told Hermione and me because Dumbledore insisted he have someone to discuss things with."

Ginny twisted around to look at him. "Why can't I be privy to everything you can?" she demanded stubbornly, hating the way her eyes were beginning to tear up. This conversation was making her feel as if she was eleven years old again; left out because she was the youngest and not considered old enough to participate in everything her brothers could.

Ron closed his eyes and exhaled heavily. "I really wish we could tell you everything!" he exclaimed. "It would make things so much easier!"

"Then why don't you just up and tell me?" she demanded, getting up.

"I can't..." Ron said with a frustrated growl. "Because Dumbledore and Harry made us promise... No, that's not right. Harry has this notion that you need to be protected! That's what!"

"I don't need protecting, Ron! I'm perfectly capable of defending myself! No matter what Harry thinks!" she spat.

Ron scrambled to his feet. "Listen to me," he demanded as she turned her back to him. "Harry loves you! So much more than he's ever let on! He's afraid that if you knew his secrets the Death Eaters and V-Voldemort would use you as a pawn to get to him." He grabbed her by the elbows and spun her round, forcing her to look at him. "Ginny, Harry told me the other night that if anything ever happened to you again he would go crazy. He's terrified that the Death Eaters will capture you... he wants you to be safe... he wants you to be there when he comes home!"

Ginny's eyebrows shot up. "Comes home?" she gasped.

Ron swore. "Damn, I've said too much already!" he exclaimed, dropping is hands and striding away angrily.

Ginny followed him up the bank towards the orchard. "Does any of this have anything to do with the fact that last night Harry asked me to wait for him? What about the fact that he might be too scared to speak? Is he really facing death?" she asked, blocking his way.

Ron's face registered six emotions at once as he nearly yelled, "Yes, Ginny! It has _everything_ to do with all that! You heard what he said that day in the Room of Requirement. It's either one or the other! Why else has he trained so hard and gone through hell to make sure you and I and everyone else has a chance at a better life? Harry doesn't want to sacrifice himself, but he will if he has to!"

Ron crumpled to the grass as hot tears coursed down Ginny's cheeks. He sat there, breathing hard as she knelt next to him, also fighting to control her emotions. Finally, she murmured, "I want to be with him, Ron."

"I know, Ginny, but if you're with him he'll do nothing but worry about keeping you safe," Ron said softly. "If he's distracted by anything he won't focus completely on getting rid of Voldemort. He has to be focused. Can you understand that?"

She nodded, struggling to accept the fact that it was best for Harry that she remain safely at home. "I can, but it isn't easy. I'm going to worry about him, you know," she told Ron in a small voice.

Ron smiled sadly. "I don't think he'd have it any other way."

They stood and resumed their walk, heading towards the family Quidditch pitch. They emerged from the trees just as Ginny thought of her father's promise at King's Cross.

"Do you think there's really a possibility of going to Mrs Figg's to see Harry this week?" she asked tentatively.

Ron shrugged. "I reckon it all depends on how Harry's feeling and whether or not Dumbledore thinks it would be a good idea," he said.

She turned sharply to face Ron, her crimson tresses whirling about her neck. "I know visiting Harry would be a good idea, Ron," she said, almost pleading. "I think I have Dad convinced of that. Harry needs something to look forward to while he's cooped up with those awful relatives of his. Getting to see us might just be the trick to keep him going until Professor Dumbledore picks him up." Ginny looked down at the ground, adding in a soft voice, "I'm just worried that Dudley will mistreat him intentionally and cause him to hurt his shoulder again."

Ron looked worried too but wasn't going to admit that just then. "Harry can look out for himself, Ginny," he replied. "Besides, he has the Order guarding him day and night wherever he goes. Dudley wouldn't dare mistreat him. Nor would his aunt and uncle after they read what was in Madam Pomfrey's letter."

"I hope you're right," Ginny said as Pig fluttered up.

A note was attached to the owl's leg. Ron plucked him out of the air and read it. "Mum and Dad are back, and Mum wants us to come in to help with dinner," he reported. He grinned. "Hedwig's here, too. Mum says she won't give her message to anyone but you."

Ginny gave a little hop of joy. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!" she asked and started back towards the house at a brisk walk.

"Hedwig's on the back of your chair," her mother called from the sink when Ginny and Ron entered the kitchen a few minutes later.

Ginny leaned her walking stick against the door jam. "Thanks, Mum," she called happily, walking over to the elegant white owl. "What do you have for me?"

Hedwig stuck out her leg, regarding Ginny with an imperious look that made her giggle. "I know. I took too long, didn't I?" she asked as she removed Harry's letter. Hedwig twittered impatiently, then fluttered over to Errol's water bowl as Ginny tore open the envelope. She read as quickly as she could with Ron hovering over her shoulder trying to see what his best friend had to say.

"Ron, this is _my_ letter. It's _personal! _I'll read you the parts you can hear when I'm done!" she exclaimed in exasperation as Ron tried to take the letter for the third time.

"What does he say, Ginny? Did he get home safely?" her mother queried. "Ron, stop pestering your sister and come peel sprouts for dinner."

Ron groaned and picked up a knife. When his mother turned back to the stove, Ron slipped out his wand and pointed it at the colander of sprouts, murmuring a spell. The next instant, the sprouts grew stumpy little legs and began running all over the counter screaming, "Watch out for the knife!"

"Ronald Weasley! Cancel that charm _immediately!_" Mrs. Weasley yelled, grabbing for a nearby pot lid which she slammed down on top of the colander at the same time as she tried to commandeer Ron's wand to do it herself.

"_Finite Incantatem_!" Ron hollered, just in time to scoop up half a dozen of the offending vegetables as their legs disappeared and they rolled off the counter.

Ginny stood where she was, clutching her letter to her stomach and laughing more than she had all week, as Ron corralled the last of the sprouts and grudgingly picked up the knife again. Ginny resumed her reading.

Harry's letter was short, just a note really. She was happy to see that he'd reached home relatively unscathed, but was surprised by what he said about Dudley. _We'll see how helpful that bloke is when Harry gets here,_ she thought, tucking the note into her pocket. To Ron and her mother she said, "Harry's home safe now and so far he hasn't had to do much more than set the table for dinner."

"That's good to hear," Mrs. Weasley said absently as a sprout that had escaped Ron's cancellation spell scampered across the back of the stove. She aimed her wand at it and sent it into Ron's colander for peeling. "Call your father. Dinner is almost ready."

At dinner, her parents wanted to know more about the awards ceremony than there had been time for at King's Cross. Ron and Ginny told the story with many interruptions from the elder Weasleys—and each other as they remembered new things to tell. The conversation progressed to plans for the rest of the summer, along with the startling news that Bill had just asked a French witch named Fleur Delacour – who worked at Gringotts with him – to be his wife. Ron's ears turned bright red when he reminded everyone that Fleur was one of the participants in the Triwizard Tournament.

"Will she be coming here for dinner?" Ginny asked.

"Actually, no," Mr. Weasley answered. "Your mother and I will be meeting Bill and Fleur in London. We've arranged for you to visit your Great Aunt Muriel that weekend."

"I'm not going!" Ron stated flatly, throwing down his napkin and pushing away from the table. "The last time we were at her house, she treated me like I was four instead of fourteen. Isn't there any other place we could go?"

Mrs. Weasley shot a piercing glare at her son, and Ginny could see a head of steam beginning to build. "Ronald Bilius Weasley, don't you take that tone with me," Mrs. Weasley said. "You will do exactly as you're told, young man! We've decided that Auntie Muriel's is the best place for the two of you to stay out of trouble."

"I'm of age," Ron shot back. "I don't have to go to Auntie Muriel's if I don't want to."

"Calm down, Ron," Mr. Weasley said. "Molly, Ron may be right. Perhaps the children should have some say in this." He then turned to his son. "Do you have any suggestions as to where the two of you might stay?"

Ginny and Ron exchanged glances across the table. Ginny inclined her head slightly as Ron said, "I was thinking of asking Professor Dumbledore's permission to stay at Hogwarts with Neville. He's going back sometime next week to finish up his article for the _Healer's Journal_ and do some additional experimentation with the Stink Sap extracts." He looked hopefully at their parents.

Mr and Mrs Weasley gazed intently at each other for a few moments, a means of communicating with each other which they had perfected over the years when it was impossible to hear each other over the clamour of seven noisy children. Ginny and Ron had dubbed this silent communication "The Look." If the stare ended in frowns, they knew they didn't have a prayer of getting what they wanted. However, tonight's silent exchange ended with nods and slight smiles. Mr Weasley said almost casually, "Shall you or I write the headmaster, dear?"

Mrs Weasley looked at Ron and Ginny expectantly. "If you two will clean up the kitchen I'll write to Professor Dumbledore."

Ginny beamed at her mother. "Thank you. It will be nice to see Neville and Harry."

"Harry's going to be at Hogwarts this summer?" inquired Mr Weasley.

"Yes," Ron answered. "Harry told us he won't be staying with the Dursleys very long this summer. He needs to meet with Professor Dumbledore and the best solution was for him to live at Hogwarts before coming here after his birthday."

"I see," Mr Weasley said noncommittally. "Very well. If Professor Dumbledore agrees, then you most likely will have a good time that weekend."

Ginny began gathering the plates and taking them to the sink. As she came back for more she asked casually, "Mum, would you ask Professor Dumbledore if Ron and I could impose on Mrs Figg to have tea with Harry later this week?"

Mr Weasley spoke directly to Ginny. "Thank you for reminding me of that. I don't think it's necessary to bother Professor Dumbledore about it. I'll enquire at Mrs Figg's about an appropriate day and have an answer for you very soon. Would you like to be the one to tell Harry of your plans?"

A huge grin lit up Ginny's face as she said, "Yes, thank you, Dad. I'll write back to him as soon as Ron and I finish the dishes." Looking at Ron, she nodded towards the table and picked up the bowl of left-over sprouts and the empty bread basket. He grinned back and picked up the nearly empty platter of roast chicken and followed her over to the counter. Soon they had everything cleaned up and the extra food put away. Ron went into the sitting room to challenge their father to a game of chess and Ginny retired to her room to write to Harry.

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm so glad you got home safely and are being allowed to relax a bit. _

_You'll never guess what Dad is going to arrange with Mrs Figg..._

**End of Chapter 2**


	3. 3 Working with Dudley

**Chapter 3: Working with Dudley**

Harry awoke the following morning just as the sun began peeking through his window. Though free from bad dreams, the night had been far from restful. His thin, lumpy mattress provided little support and he had never found a comfortable spot.

Moaning quietly, Harry rolled off the bed and pushed himself upright. Grabbing yesterday's clothes, he headed for the bathroom.

"You get up early!" Dudley greeted him from his perch on Harry's bed twenty minutes later. "Don't you ever sleep?"

Surprised, Harry jerked his head in the direction of his aunt and uncle's room. "Keep it down!" he hissed, closing the door.

Dudley repeated the question.

Shaking his head, Harry replied, "Not on a mattress as lumpy as that one. Couldn't get comfortable at all last night." He rubbed his shoulder absently.

"Well, you ready to get started?" Dudley asked, looking somewhat disconcerted at Harry's admission and changing the subject.

"What about your parents?" Harry queried worriedly.

"Them? Are you kidding? They won't hear us with the racket Dad's making in there. Now, are you ready to get started?"

"Yeah." Harry tossed his things into his trunk and walked over to the pole he had set up the night before. Dudley heaved himself off the bed and grabbed the instruction sheet from Harry's desk.

"I read that letter you gave Mum yesterday," Dudley informed him casually. "Your school nurse doesn't think you can move your arm very easily without pain." He peered at Harry with his piggy little eyes. "How high _can_ you raise your arm?"

Harry raised his arm until his shoulder began to hurt.

"That's as far as it will go?" Dudley asked, with a hint of sarcasm.

Harry nodded, feeling a bit annoyed at his cousin and thinking that he sounded an awful lot like Madam Pomfrey.

Dudley then asked Harry to move his arm several more ways before stepping back and frowning at the instruction sheet. Finally, he pulled several sheets of copy paper from his back pocket that was covered in stationary diagrams and Dudley's messy scrawl. He compared them to Madam Pomfrey's parchment.

"Well?" Harry asked when he could stand Dudley's silence no longer.

Dudley studied him a moment, then said, "Your school nurse was right. We gotta start with the stretchiest band. You can't lift your arm very high and according to this exercise sheet Robert and I worked with last term, you should have progressed to the third band by now."

"What else did it say?"

Dudley consulted his papers. "Ice the injury for twenty minutes several times a day. Have you been doing that?"

"No."

Dudley harrumphed and rolled his eyes. "Well, I guess that's the difference between sports medicine and whatever you people call it." He handed the pages to Harry and walked over to select the rubber band he wanted. "You can read that stuff later. Let's get busy. I want to work out before breakfast."

They started working. It seemed strange to Harry that Dudley could be encouraging at all; he had expected his cousin to act almost like Professor Snape at his worst, sneering at his students' efforts. Instead, Dudley calmly talked his way through each exercise, making sure Harry did each one correctly. By the time they were done, Harry needed another shower, so Dudley left, telling him to come out to the garage when he was done.

Harry was amazed at what Dudley had set up at the back of the garage near the kitchen door. The floor of Dudley's exercise area was covered with a thick rubber mat. Harry bounced lightly on the balls of his feet as he took in the transformed area. Immediately to his left, a set of free weights sat lined up on a rack in front of an old mirror. Next to it a speed bag was attached to the wall. In the far corner was a weight-lifting bench complete with weight bar. Finally, an old punching bag hung from the rafters in the middle of the space. Dudley had stripped to the waist and donned a pair of boxing gloves. His concentration was intense as he slugged the bag. He looked up, grinning, as Harry leaned against the door jam.

"This is nice," Harry commented appreciatively. "When did you put all this up?"

"Christmas hols," Dudley answered between punches. "The nurse at Smeltings watches me like a hawk and 'suggested' to Dad that I continue the training program she and the boxing coach have me on at school when I'm home during my school breaks. So Dad and I put this up."

"Do you work out every morning?" Harry asked, his curiosity mounting.

"Yeah. Drives Robert crazy on weekends, though Mum and Dad are happy I'm keeping up with my training this summer. You ever do any lifting at that school of yours?"

"A little," Harry answered, thinking of all the new equipment he had been using in the P-T Room at Hogwarts prior to the battle for Hogsmeade.

"Good. Then you'll know what to do." Dudley yanked off his gloves and strode over to the line of free weights. He selected two tiny dumbbells and then told Harry to join him in front of the mirror. "Robert's information sheet said you should be doing some lifting to build up your muscles. I made him come down to the gym with me because his doctor recommended it. He hated it at first, but the longer he trained, the better his shoulder got. I think yours will, too.

"I made a list of exercises you can do out here that may or may not require a small dumbbell." He shoved the weights into Harry's hands. "When you do these exercises watch yourself in the mirror to see if you're doing them right."

"What should I look for?" Harry asked earnestly.

"Don't slouch. Stand up straight," Dudley replied, poking Harry in the back. "Start with the easiest one first, and go slow for maximum effectiveness. You'll know if you're doing it right." Dudley paused, and then something akin to a sneer crossed his face. "Think you can handle all this?"

Harry shot Dudley a hard look before nodding and turning to the mirror. Dudley smirked and walked back over to the bag to resume his slugging. Harry gazed at himself in the mirror, feeling rather shy about watching his posture. _I've got to do this if I'm going to heal up soon, _he thought.

He then read through the list Dudley had fastened to a clipboard and hung on a nail next to the mirror. He was reluctant to try anything not prescribed by Madam Pomfrey, but his desire to get better soon won out over his inner protests. He started with the easiest exercise and progressed down the list until he had finished everything without the weights. Then, he did them all over again with the weights Dudley had given him, working until the pain had him gritting his teeth. He knew he had to push through it to get well and the sooner the better, he decided.

Suddenly, Dudley was at Harry's side, placing a rough hand on Harry's shoulder and stopping the exercise session. "Are you trying to kill yourself?" he scoffed. "Potter, if it hurts more than a little, stop and get an ice bag and give it a rest. You can do more later." He strode over to the weight bench muttering, "Stubborn git doesn't know when to quit."

Harry put the weights away and slipped back into the kitchen, warily looking round for his uncle. The snoring was still coming from upstairs and he heaved a sigh of relief. At the sound, Aunt Petunia looked up from where she stood at the cooker making breakfast.

"Morning, Aunt Petunia," Harry said. He shut the door quietly. "Dudley said there was an ice bag in here somewhere. Where can I find it?"

His aunt put down her spatula. "What do you need it for?" she snapped. "And why were you bothering Dudley?"

"My shoulder hurts. Dudley said ice would help," Harry said, advancing further into the kitchen. He began opening cupboards, looking for the screw-top rubber-lined cloth bag he knew was kept near at hand.

"I'll get it. It's up too high for you to reach and I don't want you falling off the stepladder," Aunt Petunia told him irritably. She took the bag from a shelf above the cooker and filled it with ice before handing it to Harry. "Mind that it doesn't drip."

Harry put the ice bag on his shoulder, silently wishing for one of Healer Rodkey's inflammation reduction charms. "Thanks," he mumbled. "I'm going upstairs to lie down."

"Don't fall asleep. Breakfast will be in thirty minutes. I won't hold your food," Aunt Petunia called waspishly.

The ice felt good. As the pain ebbed, Harry reached for his alarm clock and set it. He was asleep in seconds.

Breakfast was a silent affair. Uncle Vernon had finally come downstairs still clad in pyjamas and dressing gown and promptly buried himself in his Sunday newspaper. Dudley came in from the garage and quickly gulped his meal, answering any questions his mother asked him very briefly. Aunt Petunia had set a Dudley-sized plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of Harry and sat down across from him with only a cup of tea. As he ate the huge meal she eyed him over her cup, making him feel extremely ill at ease.

As soon as he was finished, Harry cleared up his dishes, then left for his room. Hedwig hadn't returned, so he pulled his Transfiguration book out of his trunk and began his summer essay. When he tired of that, he pushed aside the layer of debris at the bottom of his trunk, opened the lid to a secret nook he had created there and pulled out some notes he had made of his talks with Professor Dumbledore. He studied these until lunchtime.

Dudley was the only one in the kitchen when Harry went down stairs. "Where's Aunt Petunia?" he asked, sitting down across the table from his cousin.

"Mum? She's outside hacking at the rose bushes. One of those owls you people use to carry your post showed up with a letter she had to sign and send back. She wasn't at all happy the owl came during the day," Dudley reported, smiling. "I'll be surprised if there's anything left of those bushes by the time she gets through with them. You always get them to bloom real nice while you're here."

Harry stared at his cousin in surprise. _A compliment from Dudley? Where'd that come from?_ Unable to form a more articulate response, Harry mumbled his thanks and bit into his sandwich.

The two boys ate in silence for a few minutes until Dudley finally asked, "How do you do it, Harry?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Do what?" he asked.

Dudley stared at his plate, nervously picking through his pile of mixed fruit slices. "Stand up to things like the Dementoids and that Voldemort creep you talk about sometimes," he said to his sandwich. "You don't seem too scared of him."

Harry thought a moment before replying, "Voldemort's been around for as long as I can remember. Yeah, he scares me, but what I'm learning at school is going to help me survive the next time we duel. I found that out during the battle in Hogsmeade." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "And knowing about Dementors, erm, that's just a part of what I've learned."

Dudley put down his sandwich and looked directly at Harry. "I could never go into the kind of fight like the one that did that to you," he said, pointing his fork at Harry's sling.

"Why do you say that? You're the Smeltings boxing champion for goodness' sake!" Harry exclaimed. He picked up his milk glass and took a big swig.

"That's different. It's just sport. You—you could have died in that fight, Harry! I wouldn't have the guts to do what you did."

"Hold on there, Dudley. I know you spend hours in the gym training. You're surrounded by coaches and your teammates, too. Isn't Piers on the team? What about Robert? Doesn't he go to your matches? I know you know what you're doing when you climb into the ring!"

Dudley shook his head. "I'm not popular with my team, Harry," he said, looking like it was actually costing him something to admit it. "No one but the coaches ever says stuff like you just did to me. And Piers and I haven't done much together at Smeltings. He's in another dormitory; he's made other friends and we hardly ever see each other since he's gotten involved in the computer club and I'm at the gym all the time."

"You were with Piers and your other friends yesterday evening," Harry remarked.

Dudley harrumphed. "Like that was a laugh!" he said sarcastically. "For the first time it wasn't much fun scaring the little kids out of the play park. Something didn't feel right, but I couldn't tell Malcolm or Piers that. They'd think I'm just as weird as you!" He bit into his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. "Robert's all right, but he cares more about passing his classes than getting fit and hardly ever comes out of the library if he can help it."

Harry suppressed a smile as he thought about Hermione's love for the Hogwarts library. "There's nothing wrong with the library," he said more to himself than to Dudley. "My friend Hermione spends loads of time in there looking up survival stuff for me to learn. Half of what I know I learned from her!"

Dudley pushed away from the table and lumbered over to the refrigerator. "That's the difference between you and me; you have friends, I—I don't. Not like the ones who come to get you," he said, sounding dejected. He grabbed the carton of milk and left the kitchen, leaving Harry to clean up both their plates.

After another short nap with the remains of the ice, Harry felt restless and told Aunt Petunia he was going over to the play park. Sticking his wand in his back pocket, he began walking briskly down Privet Drive towards Wisteria Walk.

The air was just beginning to warm up, making it the perfect time for a walk. Harry listened to the sounds of the neighbourhood, keeping an ear out for the sound of his minder, whom he knew was following at a discreet distance. Half-way there he heard someone stumble and wondered if Tonks was on duty.

He reached the play park and continued walking briskly round the inside perimeter. The pages Dudley had given him emphasized keeping up with his pre-injury level of physical fitness, and that's exactly what he was determined to do. Round and round he went until he was pleasantly tired and slightly out of breath. He grabbed a quick sip of water at the park's fountain and then found a seat on one of the swings. He took off his sling and stuck it in his back pocket. It felt good to let the arm dangle loosely at his side.

It was nice sitting there alone. The sun warmed his skin, making his minor aches disappear. He felt stronger today and knew that Dudley had been just as right about physical exercise as Madam Pomfrey. He was enjoying the solitude, too. As much as he loved Hogwarts, there was never a place where he could be truly alone; someone was always trying to find him and sometimes he felt as if he lived in a fish bowl with people peering in on him at all hours of the day.

He didn't know how long he sat on the swing watching the shadows change with the movement of the sun. It was peaceful here, healing even, and when a mother brought her little son into the play area he observed them with interest.

A bark of harsh laughter and the creaking of the park gate made him jump, ending his contemplation. He looked round. Dudley and his friends Dennis, Gordon, Piers, and Malcolm had let themselves in and were strolling his way. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw the mother grab her young son from the teeter-totter and hurriedly leave the park, staying as far away from the newcomers as possible.

Now alone on the swings, Harry watched as Dudley and his friends sauntered further into the park. All five were smoking cigarettes and joking around as they walked. Gordon yelled something rude at the woman and her son as they fled the park while Malcolm punched Piers playfully on the arm. Harry knew they hadn't seen him yet, but it would only be a matter of time.

"Hey, Big D, isn't that scrawny kid your cousin?" Dennis asked several minutes later as they came into the play area.

"Yeah, so what if it is him?" Dudley said in a bored tone.

"Isn't he the one that goes to that school for criminals?" Malcolm asked. "The one all the parents keep whispering about?"

Gordon suddenly switched to a falsetto voice. "Gordon, dear, don't go near that Potter kid when he comes home for holiday. He's been at that school for criminals again this year and I don't want you around him."

This struck everyone but Dudley as extremely funny, and the group burst out laughing. Harry could see that for the first time in his life, Dudley wasn't particularly enjoying Gordon's antics.

Harry stayed in his swing waiting to see what Dudley's gang would do next. Behind him, he heard a soft shuffle of feet and knew his minder had moved closer to him. For the second time since he'd left the house Harry wondered if he or she had a back-up should things get out of hand.

"Hey, Potter!" Gordon said, coming to stand a few feet from Harry. "Who said you could swing here?"

"No one," Harry answered. "I was here first."

"Well, I want your swing," Gordon demanded, stepping closer.

Harry looked at the other swings. They were all intact and mostly new. "There are others you can sit in," he answered levelly.

Gordon was now so close that Harry could smell stale cigarettes on his breath. "Look, freak. That's my swing and I'm going to sit in it," he said, his voice taking on a menacing tone.

Harry considered his options for a few seconds. He couldn't believe Gordon was picking a fight with him on such a childish pretext. However, he knew he was in no shape for a brawl, especially against Dudley's whole gang. He slowly rose from the swing. "It's all yours, then," he said, moving backwards away from Gordon. "I've even warmed the seat for you."

Gordon followed Harry. "Don't get cheeky with me, Potter. Did I say you could leave?"

"I don't recall needing your permission," Harry replied, taking a couple of steps backward to get completely clear of the swings and a possible confrontation. Dudley, he noticed, was standing off to one side watching the row develop.

"That's not my point. You don't _have_ my _permission_ to leave," Gordon growled, following him.

Sarcasm crept into Harry's voice as he replied, "I apologize, then, _sir_. May I go?"

"Yeah, but I'd watch my back if I were you," Gordon said. "We don't like freaks around here."

Harry swallowed, hoping that his minder was ready to take action. "So I've heard," he said tightly, glancing at Dudley. "I'll be on my way, then."

As he turned to leave Harry heard Dudley mutter, "Don't call him a freak," just loud enough to be heard and paused in surprise.

"What's got into you?" Piers asked, voicing the question Harry wanted to ask.

"Just leave him alone, all right?" Dudley said somewhat defensively.

As Harry walked past him, Dudley half-turned saying, "Get out of here. I'll take care of them." Harry nodded and left the play area, walking towards the park gate. As he neared it he chanced a glance over his shoulder. He wished he hadn't. Gordon had followed him and within seconds had yanked Harry's wand and sling from his back pocket. He threw the sling on the grass and examined the wand with interest.

"What's this? Hey, the freak carries a toy wand with him!" he chortled, turning the polished holly shaft in his hand. "Do you think you can scare me with a bunch of hocus-pocus like you do Dudley's parents? Huh?"

"Give it back, Gordon," Harry said, extending his hand.

"What do you need it for, freak?" He backed up waving the wand in Harry's face, just out of reach.

"It's mine. Now give it back." Harry said a little more forcefully, following Gordon back toward the play area.

Gordon tossed the wand into the air like a baton and let it drop to the ground. Harry bent to grab it, but the other boy raised a booted foot forcing Harry to snatch his hand away as the foot descended a little. "No! Don't break it!" Harry yelled desperately.

Laughing, Gordon picked up the fallen wand and waved it triumphantly, shouting, "Abra kadabra! Sis boom bah!" When nothing happened he turned and threw the wand into the back garden of one of the houses on Magnolia Road. "You want it, go get it!"

Harry lunged, his injuries forgotten. His reaction took Gordon by surprise and Harry actually landed a couple of good punches before two sets of hands roughly pulled him away from Gordon and held him tightly. Harry winced as Malcolm tugged on his left arm, but otherwise tried not to let on how much his captors were hurting him. Instead, he searched the park for Dudley, but his cousin was nowhere to be seen.

Dennis now walked up to stand next to Gordon. "Looking for your cousin, freak? Well, he's gone, said something about Old Lady Figg or something. Weird!"

Harry twisted, struggling to free himself, his mind racing. _Where is Tonks or whoever is the hell is supposed to be minding me?_ he wondered as Dennis' words gradually sank in. _Has Dudley gone to find her?_

"He cheeked me," Gordon sneered, as Harry nearly wrenched his right arm from Piers' grasp. "Go on, Dennis. Teach the freak a lesson."

"Yeah, teach him a lesson!" Malcolm called, shifting his grip on Harry's arm.

A feral grin spread across Dennis's face and he cocked his fist. "I think I will," he snarled.

Harry waited for the punch as he made another attempt at freedom. He tightened his stomach muscles as much as possible and closed his eyes against the anticipated pain. He'd been in this situation many times when he was little and had been caught at the end of Dudley's frequent "Harry hunts." _Just get it over with, Dennis!_ he silently pleaded.

The punch landed high on his abdomen, rock solid and taking Harry's breath with it. He doubled over gasping for air and waiting for the second blow that was sure to follow. It never came. Instead, there was a shriek from behind him and the sound of something whirling through the air. It connected with a clank and the next instant, Dennis and Piers dropped his arms as the implement connected a second time.

"Get away from him, you no-good rapscallions!" the familiar voice of Mrs. Figg yelled as Harry collapsed on the ground.

Dudley's gang scattered. The sight of Mrs Figg chasing after Dennis and Gordon swinging her string bag of cat food tins would have been laughable if Harry didn't hurt so much. Instead, he lay where he had fallen and fought to control his breathing. He couldn't. Every time he took a deep breath pain lanced through his ribs and he knew Dennis had broken at least two of them, most likely the ones he'd broken in Hogsmeade. He rolled over on his back, breathing shallowly. His eyes drifted shut as he willed away the pain.

"Harry," a second voice called. "Harry, are you all right?"

"Tonks?" he queried, not opening his eyes.

"Wotcher, Harry," she said. "Where did he hurt you?"

"Ribs," he gasped, opening his eyes. "I think they're broken."

"Can I see?" Tonks asked, reaching for the hem of his shirt. Harry nodded and she exposed his abdomen, probing gently with her fingers until he flinched.

"Harry, I'm going to fix your ribs. Three are broken. Hold still," she said. He did and seconds later felt her healing spell wash over him in familiar waves of heat, then cold. He took an experimental deep breath and was grateful when he felt no pain except for a lingering burning sensation from the spell.

"Thanks, Tonks," he mumbled, pushing himself into a sitting position.

"No problem," she said. "Did they hurt you anywhere else?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so. I hurt, but it's nothing one of my pain potions and some ice won't fix," he admitted, flexing his left shoulder, wincing.

He suddenly glanced sharply at Tonks. "You were right here," he said, an accusing note creeping into his voice. "Why didn't you stop them before they hurt me?"

Tonks' face flushed. "Sorry, kid," she replied, handing him his wand. "We're under orders to not to reveal our presence unless the situation gets really serious. The Ministry's having a devil of time keeping a lid on things with the Muggles – what with the increasing Death Eater attacks. It's getting harder and harder to keep our world a secret."

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Tonks cut him off.

"Come on, then. Let's get you home," she said, helping him to his feet. She grabbed her Invisibility Cloak from where it lay beside him.

Harry swayed a bit, then recovered his balance as Mrs Figg came puffing toward them.

"That Dennis!" she exclaimed angrily. "I'll skin him alive if I ever catch him!"

Harry smiled at his elderly neighbour. "You do that," he told her.

She frowned and asked, "Are you all right? Can you make it home?"

"I'm fine," he said, gritting his teeth as they walked slowly towards the park gate. "The sooner I get home, the better."

Half an hour later, the three stopped in front of the wall separating the Dursley's garden from the street. Tonks, who had disappeared under her cloak again when they left the park, gently patted him on the back as Mrs Figg opened the gate.

"You made the right choice not to draw your wand, Harry," she said, confirming his earlier decision.

Harry wished he could believe Mrs Figg, but for once his mind and heart were not cooperating; he had too many unanswered questions. "Why didn't Dudley defend me?" he blurted, asking the question that was utmost in his mind. "I know we've never liked each other much, but he could have at least called off his goons!"

Tonks' voice spoke softly over his shoulder. "He did something better, Harry. He found your wand and gave it to me. Here." His wand appeared out of nowhere and he pocketed it swiftly. "It may have looked like he was condoning his friends' actions, but he chose the right thing instead of going along with Gordon and Dennis," she continued.

Harry closed his eyes, hoping Tonks' story was true. "Thanks for telling me, Tonks," he muttered, turning towards the gate.

"I'll be speaking to Dumbledore about this, Harry," Mrs Figg told him. "He might want Madam Pomfrey to check you over. In any case, send Hedwig to me tomorrow morning. I'll have my answer by then." She stepped back. "Go on with you now. You'll go upstairs and lie down, if you know what's good for you."

Harry smiled wanly. "I will, Mrs Figg," he said. "Oh, and thanks for coming to my rescue."

"No need to thank me, Harry. I'll be in touch," she said and shuffled off down the street, her string bag clanking softly with each step.

Harry wasted no time upon entering the house. He ached all over and all he could think about was a fresh bag of ice and a pain potion as he entered the kitchen. Aunt Petunia had left the ice bag on the counter next to the sink. He filled it with ice and headed for his bedroom, his anger at himself simmering. Why had he thought Dudley would defend him in front of his friends, especially after what they'd talked about at lunch? Just because Dudley had been nice to him last night and this morning, he'd let his guard down, wanting to trust him a little. Feeling frustrated, Harry pushed open his door, but stopped when something rustled behind him.

"Are you… all right?" Dudley's question sounded tentative, as if concern for Harry was a completely foreign idea.

Harry turned. "I've been better," he answered as he gingerly rubbed his ribcage.

Dudley nodded. "I tried to stop them," he muttered, studying his trainers. "I'm sorry I didn't do a very good job of it."

Harry crossed the landing, pulling his wand from his pocket. Dudley's eyes widened, but Harry switched his grasp and did not point the tip at his cousin. "Thank you, Dudley, for finding my wand," he said softly. "Getting this back means a lot. Will your friends be angry?"

Dudley shoved his hands in his pockets. "It doesn't matter. They'll forget about what I did in a day or two," he mumbled. He looked up at Harry's shoulder. "What's important is you getting better. Have you taken your medicine yet?"

Harry shook his head, feeling tired and achy. "Not yet, but the ice is helping already," he admitted, smiling as he adjusted the ice bag in a better spot.

"Good," Dudley said, turning back into his room. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, then."

"Yeah, good night, Dudley," Harry said, as he entered his room. He quickly downed a dose of his pain potion and settled onto his bed. The cold found its way further into his shoulder as potion kicked in, making him feel relaxed and sleepy. Turning towards the wall, Harry closed his eyes and shut out the world.

**End of Chapter 3**


	4. 4 What a Week!

Chapter 4: What a Week!

**Author's Note: Please excuse the lateness of this posting. I had to fly home for a week to attend my father's memorial service. It was quite the send-off, full of friends I hadn't seen for years, reminiscences and stories told by one and all, and topped off with a tour of an old building I never thought I'd see again.**

**Thank you so much for all of the great reviews you sent while I was gone. I'm looking forward to answering them all, plus the ones written for this chapter. I hope you enjoy this glimpse of life at The Burrow.**

Tuesday morning was always laundry day at the Weasley house. For as long as she could remember, Ginny had trudged from room to room collecting the family laundry baskets and lining them up in the scullery. Working closely with her mother was something Ginny actually enjoyed, because she always had her mother's almost undivided attention. The two had spent many a pleasurable hour discussing all sorts of subjects that only the women of the house could share. Today was no exception, and as soon as the breakfast dishes were done, the two began the weekly chore of providing everyone with clean clothes.

"Ginny, please hang this load of sheets on the line to dry," Mrs Weasley requested, holding out a large wicker basket. "I'll be out in a few minutes to help you with the two largest ones."

Ginny took the basket out to the clothes lines her mother had set up in the middle of the back garden. A row of towels flapped in the light breeze and Ginny checked them for dryness before pinning up the first sheet. As she tugged a second sheet out of the basket a low twitter caught her attention. She dropped the sheet and gazed into the amber eyes of her favourite snowy owl. Hedwig gave a little hop and landed on Ginny's shoulder, nipping at the fly-away tendrils of red hair that had escaped from Ginny's plait.

"I'm glad to see you, too," Ginny said, giggling a little as the owl's feathers tickled her head. She stroked Hedwig's chest. "Do you have a letter for me from Harry?"

Hedwig stuck out her leg revealing two separate scrolls of parchment. The first one had her name on, so she detached it, noting that the second missive was for Ron.

"Thanks, Hedwig. Ron's up in his bedroom. You can ask him for a snack or go find some of the mice Pig was hunting yesterday out in the orchard. Take your pick," Ginny told the owl.

Hedwig gently squeezed Ginny's shoulder with her talons and took off for Ron's room. The laundry forgotten, Ginny sank onto one of the garden benches and began to read Harry's letter.

For Harry, this was a long letter, nearly two full pages. He included a detailed accounting of the daily routine he had fallen into, mentioning how much he had improved over the last few days under Dudley's brusque guidance. Ginny was pleased that although he still felt some pain in his shoulder, he could now raise his arm completely over his head while supporting a medium-sized weight. She was still somewhat sceptical, though, of his report that his aunt and uncle had not yet required him to do any particularly strenuous yard work.

A hand on her shoulder caused her to jump and she looked up to find Ron peering down at her letter. His own letter from Harry was in his hand. "Want to compare?" he inquired.

Ginny scooted over to give Ron room to sit down. "What did Harry write to you?" she asked.

"The usual. He's looking forward to tomorrow afternoon and believe it or not, he's got half his homework done! I haven't even thought about my essays, much less _started_ them," Ron exclaimed, shaking his head.

"That makes two of us," Ginny agreed. She then told him about Dudley helping Harry.

"Dudley? That bully?" Ron exclaimed, his eyebrows rising toward his fringe. "I'll believe that when I see it."

"Let's ask Harry about his training tomorrow," Ginny suggested. "If he really is better, he should be willing to tell us what they've been doing."

"Good thinking, Ginny," Ron said, standing up. He reached for the sheet Ginny had dropped back into the basket. "Mum told me to come out and help you with these."

"Thanks," Ginny said, and picked up the other end. Together they made quick work of the remaining sheets and were soon striding back to the house, talking about their upcoming trip to Mrs Figg's.

**oOo**

The next afternoon Ginny and Ron stepped out of Mrs Figg's fire place a few minutes before the appointed time they were to meet with Harry. As she landed on the hearth, Ginny lunged forward to keep from falling flat on her face and stepped on a cat's tail. The resulting yowl pierced the air, causing the other felines in the room to run for cover. Ginny righted herself just in time to get out of Ron's way as Mrs Figg bustled into the living room carrying a serving tray upon which rested plates, cups, a large teapot, and a sugar and creamer set.

"My, my, my, don't you make a good alarm, Mr Tibbles," Mrs Figg crooned to the large cat wrapping itself sinuously about her ankles, even as it scowled at Ginny. Smiling, the older woman looked up at Ron and Ginny. "Welcome to my home. Harry hasn't come round yet, but I expect him momentarily. Please, sit down." She gestured to the worn sofa and wingback chairs grouped round a low circular table.

As Ron sat in one of the wing chairs, Ginny asked, "What can I help with, Mrs Figg?"

Their hostess smiled. "It would be nice if you could bring in the gateau for me. The plate is rather heavy, and I would hate to see such a marvellous confection end up on the floor," she said.

Ginny followed Mrs Figg into the kitchen and picked up the large cake smothered in chocolate icing. As she threaded her way between the several cats that lay on the floor, the doorbell rang. Mrs Figg left her tray of small sandwiches on the counter and hastened past Ginny to answer the door.

"Welcome, Harry, dear! Do come in. It's so good to see you again," Ginny heard Mrs Figg exclaim as she set the gateau on the table. Harry's mumbled greeting was drowned by the loud meowing of several cats that had slunk in as he stepped inside.

Ginny straightened up as Harry greeted Ron, wondering whether her boyfriend would want to kiss her in front of Mrs Figg. He didn't. Instead, he held her close for a long time. They connected mentally.

_I've really missed you, Ginny._

_I've missed you, too, Harry. _She gazed past his glasses into the green eyes that had haunted her dreams for the past three nights. He seemed tired to her, mentally as well as physically. _Are you all right?_

_I'm fine, Ginny. Honestly._ His answer caused her to scowl, but she let it go for the moment. Aloud he said, "Ginny, please thank your dad for arranging this. I'm very glad you're here."

"I will, Harry," she promised.

The three found seats before Mrs Figg's cats could take over the furniture. Harry followed Ginny to the sofa and sat close enough to her for their knees to touch. One glance at Ron's efforts not to look their way nearly caused Ginny to burst out laughing. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand and coughed several times. However, she couldn't keep the smile off her face as Harry queried, _Is Ron embarrassed by how close I'm sitting?_

_Absolutely, Harry! He's treating this tea as a very formal occasion because of Mrs Figg... and Mum's admonishments to be on our best behaviour, of course. Just look at his ears!_ she chortled. _Mum would be proud!_

It was now Harry's turn to grin in Ron's direction, although he did scoot away from her onto the sofa's other cushion. Ginny felt Ron's eyes on her and she glanced up to see her brother nodding his approval. She scowled back, daring Ron to say something about inappropriate behaviour. _He's no fun,_ she thought.

_Not at all,_ Harry echoed back. They grinned at each other.

_Personally, I think Ron wants us to sit that close,_ Ginny said.

Harry raised an eyebrow in her direction. _You think? I'd love to, Ginny, but I don't think Mrs Figg would approve. _

Ginny snickered behind her hand.

At that moment, their hostess brought in one last tray of food—a large treacle tart that had Harry grinning from ear to ear—and made a big production of serving the first cups of tea to each of her guests. None of the three spoke until everyone had a cup and the plates of food had been passed. Then, Mrs Figg excused herself saying, "Holler if you'd like another pot of tea. I'll come back to cut the cake when you're ready."

She left to a chorus of 'Thank yous,' leaving the three friends to chat. They ate quietly for a few minutes and when she had refreshed everyone's cup, Ginny turned to Harry. "It's good to see you without your sling."

"I haven't needed it for a couple of days," he said, a note of pride in his voice. "Dudley's got me working out in the garage two times a day, three if he can bully me into it. Madam Pomfrey should be pleased the next time she checks me over."

Ron looked interested as he asked, "What sort of things is Dudley having you do?"

Harry launched into a detailed explanation of his exercise program which had Ron on the edge of his seat. Ginny leaned back and watched them, happy for the moment just to be near Harry. He seemed to have perked up a bit since he arrived. _Maybe it's seeing some friendly faces,_ she thought.

"Well, that's it," Harry finished. "I'm now using the second to last rubber band with Madam Pomfrey's post contraption, and I'm hoping to be on the last one by the time Professor Dumbledore comes to pick me up."

"When will that be?" Ginny asked.

The smile left Harry's face. "I don't know. It could be Saturday, it could be a week from yesterday, I might have to stay the entire fortnight. All I know is that I'm to expect an owl that hasn't come yet."

"Will you need to come back here next year?" Ron asked looking at Ginny. She shook her head, trying to convey the question was unnecessary.

Harry, however, looked relieved. "As of July 31st I'm completely finished with the Dursleys and the need to endure my annual sentence at their house," he replied, a slight smile spreading across his face. "I'm going to tell Aunt Petunia she can do whatever she wants with my, erm... Dudley's second bedroom... after I leave with Professor Dumbledore. My short stay here this summer is all I'll have to endure until I turn seventeen."

"And then what happens?" Ron asked quietly.

Harry shrugged. "I'll be an adult living at Hogwarts for the most part until I have to face _him," _he said, adding emphasis to the last word. No one spoke for several seconds.

"What about your aunt and uncle and Dudley?" Ginny asked, curious to know what would happen to them in a morbid sort of way and eager to get thoughts of Voldemort out of her head.

"Professor Dumbledore seems to think they'll have to go into hiding once my mother's protective charm ends," Harry commented, pushing aside a cucumber sandwich and taking a large bite of treacle tart. He followed it with a sip of tea. "I'm not envying the Order members who will be assigned to their evacuation. My uncle won't be very cooperative, I'm afraid."

"What'll he do? Turn purple again?" Ron asked, a small amused smile lighting up his face. Ginny recalled hearing Fred and George's story about their Tonne Tongue Toffees a few years ago and their detailed description of Vernon Dursley's colour changes.

"Among other things," Harry said, indifferently. "I'm more concerned with how Dudley's going to take it."

"Huh?" Ron asked. "When did you start caring about Dudley?"

Harry picked up his cup, but didn't drink. "Last Sunday afternoon," he mumbled, suddenly looking uncomfortable. His tone made both Ginny and Ron feel uneasy.

As Ginny glanced uncomfortably at Harry, something occurred to her that she hadn't thought of since late Sunday afternoon. "Harry," she asked quietly, "did something happen to you on Sunday?"

Both Ron and Harry stared at her. "What makes you say that?" he asked, his voice cautiously casual.

"Were you wearing your phoenix?" she pushed.

Harry nodded slowly. "Yeah, but what of it? The Burrow's a hundred miles from here," he answered evasively.

"Harry, my angel vibrated. The only reason for that would be you needing me," Ginny told him, determined to get to the bottom of what was bothering her. "You know that."

"It couldn't have done," he said, not meeting her eyes. "There's too much distance between us."

"Well, it did," Ginny insisted, reaching up to finger her necklace. "But before I could tell Dad about it, Tonks called an urgent Order meeting and he had to leave."

"That meeting could have been about anything, Ginny," Ron interjected.

Ginny scowled at him. "Then why did Dad pull Mum up to their bedroom and lock the door for ten minutes when he got home?" she demanded. "He only does that when he needs to talk to her about Harry and doesn't want us hearing what they're saying. The rest of the time they just talk quietly in the corner of the kitchen."

Ron nodded and turned to Harry. "Did something happen that you're not telling us?" he asked, an accusatory note creeping into his voice.

Harry looked down at his dilapidated trainers, mumbling, "Dudley's gang cornered me in the park."

Instantly, Ron and Ginny were by his side. Fury washed over Ginny as she put her arm around Harry's shoulders. She was silent for a moment, gaining control of her emotions. "I'm so, so sorry, Harry."

Ron pushed aside the teapot and sat on the table. The wood protested a bit and he slid to his knees. "Did they hurt you, mate?"

Harry inhaled and closed his eyes. "Dudley's friend Dennis broke three of my ribs," he muttered. "But Dudley didn't stick around once they started after me."

Ginny bit her lip as Ron stormed towards the door, his hand reaching for his wand. "Come back here, Ron!" she hissed. "Going after Dudley and that Dennis kid won't do any good. They're Muggles and you could get in serious trouble if you hex them!"

Ron's eyes blazed as he directed his anger at Harry. "Why didn't you fight back?" he demanded. "A couple of spells and you would have been rid of those gits."

Harry jumped to his feet, facing Ron. "Don't you think I wanted to hex them?" he shot back, his voice rising with each word. "Gordon had my wand, Ron. He threatened to snap it in two." Hearing this, Ron's hand twitched towards his wand again, but other than that he made no movement until Harry ended his story saying, "I can't afford another letter from the Ministry, and you know why."

The two boys stared at each other, breathing hard, and then Ron nodded and slowly sat back down. Puzzled, Ginny tried to contact Harry but he blocked her thoughts, the first time he had ever done such a thing. His refusal to accept her questions shook her badly, and she wondered why Harry didn't want to answer her. Without even looking at him, she excused herself and hurried into the kitchen carrying the teapot.

"More tea, dear?" Mrs Figg inquired, looking up from the Muggle newspaper she had spread on the kitchen table.

"Yes, and we're ready to cut the gateau," Ginny said, reaching for the tin of tea and the kettle of hot water that simmered on the stove.

Mrs Figg pushed away from the table. "Ginny, what was all the arguing out there just now? I nearly went out there to see what was the matter," she said.

Ginny said, "Harry just told us what happened to him on Sunday afternoon. The three of us were arguing about it. Ron didn't like it that Dudley's friends hurt Harry."

"No, I don't think he would, and neither did Nymphadora."

Ginny's eyes widened. "_Tonks _was there and didn't do anything to stop Dudley's gang?" she asked angrily. "Why not?"

Sighing, Mrs Figg said, "Harry had no protection that afternoon, Ginny."

"I don't understand, Mrs Figg. Why wasn't anyone following him?" Ginny demanded.

"Ginny, almost every Order member and all the Aurors were out in the field trying to divert attention from what the Muggles called a car bombing near the Westminster Underground station. It took Dudley Dursley pounding on my door to get Harry some help," Mrs Figg replied with a sigh.

Ginny stared at her. "Dudley actually _helped_ Harry in front of his friends?" she exclaimed incredulously.

"Yes, he did. He even went in search of Harry's wand and brought it back to him."

"That's amazing," Ginny murmured, shaking her head in disbelief.

Mrs Figg cleared her throat. "There's another thing you need to understand about this war, Ginny," she said gravely. "Lord Voldemort is becoming stronger by the day, whereas the Order is weakening rapidly. Five of our key members have been lost in the last few weeks, and Professor Dumbledore is scrambling to keep us together. It's not an easy job with the increased Death Eater activity. We watchers and the Auror squads are stretched to the breaking point. Harry was lucky I was at home last Sunday. If things hadn't dissipated as they did when I went to Harry's rescue, both of us might have been sent to hospital."

"It's become that bad?" Ginny murmured in alarm as the kettle whistled.

"Yes, child, I'm afraid it has," Mrs Figg said.

"I had no idea..." Ginny said, her shoulders sagging slightly. She concentrated on warming the tea pot with a little hot water as she digested this new information. "Is there anything Ron and I can do?" she finally asked.

Mrs Figg smiled at her. "You're doing it already. You're keeping Harry's spirits up and helping him see that he's made the right choices, even if they are difficult," she said.

Ginny looked at her doubtfully. "If you say so," she said resignedly. She glanced at the teapot in her hands. "I'd better finish this before Harry and Ron wonder what's become of me." She carefully measured out the tea leaves and filled the pot with hot water. When the tea was ready, the two women went back into the sitting room.

Ron and Harry were talking Quidditch as if nothing had happened and Ginny hadn't been gone from the room an unusually long time. Ron was catching Harry up on the latest goings-on by the Chudley Canons. He gestured wildly, imitating the Keeper's latest spectacular save, a move that involved hanging upside-down from his broom by his knees. Ginny sat back down on her end of the sofa and held out plates to catch the slices of cake. She genuinely hoped Ron would not try _that_ move the next time they went up to practice.

The gateau was delicious, but Ginny hardly tasted it. She was greatly disturbed by the news of the Order and felt stung by Harry's earlier slighting. _There's something he's not telling me,_ she thought, _and it has to do with Dumbledore and possibly Voldemort. I don't know what it is, but I really wish Harry would trust me._

She tried in vain to connect with Harry again, but he refused. He wouldn't even make eye contact with her. Ginny at last gave up, feeling as though icy tendrils were squeezing her heart. She hoped Harry wasn't so ashamed of what had happened on Sunday that he was refusing to talk about it more than he had; it seemed to her that he had conducted himself admirably.

The conversation switched to news of Hermione and Ron reminded everyone that she would be at The Burrow in less than three weeks, just in time to go with Ron and Ginny to visit Neville and Harry at Hogwarts. Harry seemed pleased that he would have visitors. "This summer isn't turning out as bad as I thought it would," he remarked.

The three smiled at the thought and as soon as they were done with their gateau, they took their dishes into the kitchen. In no time the clean cups and plates were stacked neatly on the counter. Harry proudly reached over his head to put them away with everyone looking on. _I told you I was much better,_ he crowed as the last plate slid into place.

_Good for you,_ Ginny replied, failing to match his enthusiasm as he climbed off the step stool.

Harry looked at her with a puzzled expression on his face. _You're not happy about my progress?_

Ginny sighed. _I'm pleased that you're doing so well, Harry,_ she admitted. _But I just can't help thinking that you're keeping something important from me, something that as one of Voldemort's victims I have a right to know._

Harry's gaze left hers and focused on a spot behind Ginny's head. _I wish I could tell you, but Professor Dumbledore wanted as few people as possible to be privy to certain information and gave me permission to tell only Ron and Hermione._

_Why not me?_

_I've told you that already, Ginny. I need you here to come back to. I need you to be safe._

_But I don't _want_ to be stuck safely at home or at Hogwarts, Harry. I want to help you, I want to FIGHT! I'm Voldemort's victim just as much as you are!_

_I know that, but your parents want you to be safe as much as I do. They wouldn't think very highly of me if something happened to their only daughter while you were with me. I have to respect their wishes. _Harry stepped forward and gathered her into his arms.

Ginny hugged him back, aware that both her brother and Mrs Figg were looking at them. _I don't like it, but_ _I do understand, _she told him with a sudden mischievous smile. _And I don't think your aunt and uncle would like it if something happened to me and Mum sent you a Howler._

Harry threw his head back and let out a Sirius-like bark of laughter, causing Mrs Figg to smile. _No, I don't think they would._ He grew serious as he stepped back and fumbled with something under his shirt. "Will you keep this for me?" he asked, holding out his phoenix pendent. "I won't be in one place for very long this summer and I won't be able to wear it when I'm with Dumbledore." His fingers covered hers as he dropped it gently into her hand. "I really do want it back."

Ginny accepted the necklace and hung it around her own neck. "I'll keep it safe, I promise," she said capturing his eyes with hers. _I love you, Harry._

Harry inhaled sharply, the green of his eyes intensifying at her words. _I love you, too, Ginny. Thank you._ He turned to Mrs Figg. "Thank you for having me over," he said as Ron and Ginny murmured their appreciation as well.

"It was lovely to have young people in this house today," Mrs Figg told them, pressing large slices of treacle tart and chocolate gateau into their hands at the door. "To keep your strength up," she added when the two boys exchanged grins.

Harry gave Mrs Figg a quick hug and then shook hands with Ron. Turning to Ginny he kissed her discreetly on the cheek murmuring, "I'll see you soon," and hurried away before she could respond.

With a heavy heart Ginny walked to the fire place and threw in a pinch of Floo Powder. "See you at home," she told Ron. She stepped into the green flames shouting, "The Burrow," leaving him to thank their hostess and juggle the plates of food in the Floo.

Mum met her at the hearth. "How was your tea with Harry?" she asked as Ginny came shooting out.

She paused long enough to say, "We had a good time and I can hardly wait until we see him again at Hogwarts in a couple of weeks," before turning and ascending the stairs to her room. She quietly shut the door and leaned against it for a moment. The quiet room calmed her as she crossed the floor to her bed and sat down, staring at her poster of the Weird Sisters.

A few minutes later, her mother knocked and opened the door. "I know something is bothering you, Ginny," she said in her no-nonsense manner. "You've never said so little after a visit with Harry."

Ginny gave her mother a small smile and held up Harry's necklace. "Harry gave back the necklace I gave him last term because he's afraid it will lead Voldemort to us. I'm just feeling a little left out of his plans at the moment, Mum. I'll be all right in a few minutes."

"I can understand," Mrs Weasley said, coming to sit next to Ginny. "I felt the same way when Fabian and Gideon went out on their first Order missions and left me at home with your grandparents."

Ginny's eyes widened at this new piece of information about her uncles. "Did they come back?" she asked, needing something to hope for.

Mrs Weasley smiled. "They did for over three years, three years of worry on my part until that last mission when everything I'd been dreading came to fruition and the Death Eaters got the best of them," she said, groping in her pocket for her handkerchief. She dabbed at her eyes before saying, "You must have faith that whatever Harry is involved in, he will come back to you if for no other reason than to claim his necklace. Keep it safe for him, Ginny, and let its presence comfort you."

Ginny sighed and hugged her mum. "I will, Mum, I will."

**End of Chapter 4**

**A/N: **As always, I have two people to thank who have helped to get this chapter ready for archiving. First, to GhostWriter who patiently goes through each and every first draft I send him and gives me his opinion and suggestions for improving what I've written. I can always count on his draft to be covered in red and witty remarks that, most of the time, make me smile. Second, there is Aggiebell, my beta, whose witty comments and suggestions for italicizing certain words for emphasis helps me to give meaning to what my characters say.


	5. 5 Leaving the Dursleys'

Chapter 5: Leaving the Dursleys'

Harry's trunk had been packed for two days. It stood in its usual place at the foot of his bed with Hedwig's cage on top. Hedwig herself sat placidly on her perch, her head tucked under one wing. Despite her relaxed position, Harry knew that she wasn't asleep because he could see her peering at him with one golden brown eye. She seemed to be as eager as her owner for the arrival of the headmaster.

Fawkes had appeared early on Thursday morning, nearly two weeks after Harry had arrived at Privet Drive, with Professor Dumbledore's letter telling Harry when to be ready to leave for Hogwarts. It was a testimony of how eager he was to leave the Dursleys' that Harry had immediately begun gathering his possessions and organizing his room.

He now stood in the doorway scanning the bare walls and the open door to his empty wardrobe to make certain he had not missed anything. To him, the room held no sentiment except a fondness he felt for the cracks in the plaster ceiling over his bed. He had stripped the worn, thin mattress, neatly folding the sheets and stacking them at the foot of the bed. He had emptied every drawer in his dresser and desk, checking and rechecking that nothing remained to remind his relatives of his presence in the room. Finally, he had squirmed underneath the bed, pried up the loose floor board and fished inside his hiding place, withdrawing the remnants of an old birthday cake, several broken quills, and a dried-up bottle of ink. The only reminder of his stay this year was his exercise pole; it refused to come unstuck from the floor and Harry thought that Professor Dumbledore might give him permission to cancel the Sticking Spell once he arrived.

He was about to search his desk one more time when he heard Aunt Petunia shut the door to the spare bedroom where the trap door to the attic was located. He had seen her go in there ten minutes earlier and had wondered vaguely why when she had dusted and vacuumed that room just yesterday. Turning towards the sound, he was surprised to see her carrying an old cardboard box.

She looked at him suspiciously saying, "You've never been this tidy before. Why did you clean up so thoroughly this year?"

"I... er... I wanted to make up for all the years I've left reminders of my stay here," Harry said lamely. "You let me recuperate this year. Thank you."

Aunt Petunia stared at him as if she didn't quite believe him, and then said hesitantly, "Harry, I… do you have room in your trunk for this?"

Harry eyed the box distrustfully. "What is it?" he asked as she held it out to him.

"Just some old things I want to get rid of, but thought you might want to look at before I threw them out," she said, returning to her normal tone of voice. "If you're not interested I'll just throw them in the bin."

Harry took the box. "It won't hurt me to have a look," he grumbled and shut the door in his aunt's face. _What could she possibly have kept for so long that she suddenly wants to get rid of?_ he wondered.

He placed the box on his desk, lifted the lid and stared open-mouthed at the contents. Inside were a child's blanket and a letter, bearing Dumbledore's handwriting, addressed to Petunia Dursley. With trembling hands, Harry removed the letter and scanned the neat lines that explained the reason for Harry's being left on her doorstep. _So this is how it all started,_ he mused, restoring the letter to its envelope and lifting out the blanket. His eyes drifted shut as a series of vague memories exploded inside his head. He didn't fight them, but let them play out: most were fragments of larger memories, but one seemed to be intact. Harry bowed his head and clutched the blanket as he remembered the day his blanket was taken from him…

_He was four years old, old enough to know that taking something of Dudley's would get him thrown into his cupboard. But Dudley had been taking his blanket all day and little Harry wanted revenge. He reached over and picked up the brightly coloured ball Dudley had been throwing at the telly whenever a commercial interrupted his enjoyment of a favourite show. The moment Harry's hand closed over the toy Dudley let out a fearsome howl._

"_Bad boy took my ball!" he wailed, as Uncle Vernon came charging into the living room._

"_Boy! You give that back!" Uncle Vernon yelled, wrenching both the ball and Harry's blanket away from him. "Haven't you learned that taking things is WRONG?" He yanked little Harry to his feet and frogmarched him into the hall, dropping the ball and the blanket on the floor as he opened the door to Harry's cupboard. He shoved Harry inside bellowing, "You take things from my son, I take things from you."_

Harry had never seen his beloved blanket again and until this moment had believed his uncle had thrown it out with the trash. _Why did Aunt Petunia save this?_ he wondered as he smoothed the woolly softness. _Why am I so attached to it? It's just an old blanket. _ But he knew the answer: the blanket had been his sole comfort until it had been taken away.

Harry swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and gently lowered the blanket back into the box. As he did so, his hand brushed against a piece of paper stuck to the side of the box. He carefully peeled it away and blinked in surprise when he realized what he was holding. The Muggle photograph of his mother smiled up at him. Lily sat on a park bench holding the leash of a Pembroke Corgi. The dog had its nose in the air and was looking at her expectantly. After a moment, Harry turned the photo over. On the back, written in his aunt's hand were the words, "My sister, Lily. Age 17. June 1977."

"Well, are you keeping that stuff?" his aunt asked brusquely, barging into Harry's room.

Harry carefully laid the photo on top of the letter and put the lid back on the box before answering. "Yes. I'm keeping it," he said, putting a possessive hand on the box.

"Very well. The box was taking up room in the attic, so you might as well take it with you," she said dismissively. "When did your letter say Professor Dumbledore will be here?"

Harry replied, "Half two, Aunt Petunia."

"He'd better be on time. I have to take Dudley into town and don't want to leave until you're gone."

Harry looked at his watch. "He'll be here in ten minutes. I'll take my things down now."

Aunt Petunia turned on her heel and left without a word.

Harry grabbed Hedwig's cage and took it down to the foyer. Returning quickly to his room for his trunk, he opened it and made room for the box. He closed the lid and then stood staring at it. The only way to get the large and heavy item down the stairs without magic was to drag it. A grin suddenly split Harry's face as he pulled it along, letting it bump noisily behind him.

"What's all the ruckus?" Uncle Vernon demanded from the sitting room. He threw his paper down on the ottoman and lumbered to his feet. "I demand to know why you insist on making such a god-awful noise, boy!"

Harry smirked as he explained, "I'm leaving in a few minutes with Professor Dumbledore. Didn't Aunt Petunia tell you?"

"Does this mean you're coming back next year or are you gone for good?" Uncle Vernon challenged, coming into the foyer. "Because if you're coming back next year, you'll be paying room and board!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw the kitchen door open just a crack and knew Dudley was listening at the keyhole. "I'll be back next year, Uncle Vernon," he said.

His uncle eyed him suspiciously. "I suppose you've left all sorts of nasty things in your room, boy. You've always been a slob," he said vindictively.

"It's a lot less cluttered than when I moved into it," Harry shot back. "There's only my exercise pole, which I'll have Professor Dumbledore remove before we leave."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Uncle Vernon snapped. "When does that professor of yours get here?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but the doorbell cut him off. Ignoring his uncle's glare, he strode eagerly to the door and opened it. Professor Dumbledore stood on the threshold wearing a stylish black suit and a grey Trilby, which contrasted sharply with his long white hair and beard. Harry thought his headmaster looked rather like a Jewish rabbi.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore," he said, stepping back to allow his headmaster to come inside.

"Hello, Harry. Marvellous day for a walk. I see you are ready for me this year. Have you said good bye to your family?"

Harry studied Professor Dumbledore from the back as they walked into the lounge. Somehow, he had the impression that his Headmaster was very tired today. "Not yet, sir. I was wondering if I could have permission to cancel the Sticking Charm on the exercise post Madam Pomfrey had me using while I was here."

"You may, Harry. Be quick about it. We are due at Arabella's in a few minutes."

Harry sprinted up the stairs to his bedroom. Whipping out his wand, he pointed it first at his alarm clock and then at the post, non-verbally casting two separate charms. The clock "pinged" quietly and the post immediately toppled over, shrinking to fit its carry bag. As he stuffed the post into the bag, Dudley leaned against the door jam, blocking Harry's way out.

"That was cool," he remarked, "but won't you get in trouble?"

"No. Professor Dumbledore is here and he gave me permission to cancel the Sticking Charm," Harry answered coldly, walking up to Dudley. The memory of that day in the park was still fresh in Harry's mind. He needed to get back downstairs, but it didn't seem as though Dudley wanted to let him pass. "Excuse me, please."

Dudley didn't budge. Instead, he said, "I guess this is it. You're not coming back until next year."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why should you care? You're getting your second bedroom back," he said tersely.

Dudley glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah, well… It's been... helpful having a workout partner. You still look like a gust of wind could blow you away. You just might want to keep doing some of those exercises – wherever it is that you're going."

Harry gaped at his cousin. They hadn't really had a proper conversation since that day in the park, yet here was Dudley acting as though he didn't want Harry to leave. A couple of moments' awkward silence passed, which Harry finally broke.

"You… you helped me a lot, Dudley… Thanks," he said stiffly.

"Yeah, er… maybe I'll find a way to, you know, keep in touch," Dudley said quietly, again glancing over his shoulder.

"Er… sure, all right," Harry replied, stunned.

A smile twitched at the corners of Dudley's lips. "Might be kinda hard, though. _ Normal people_ don't keep owls about to deliver their post," he said, rolling his eyes.

_Was Dudley making a joke?_ Harry's mouth quirked slightly as he said, "Take them to Mrs Figg. She'll see that I get them."

Dudley looked satisfied as he walked across the landing and into his room. At the door, he turned. "See you around, Pot… erm, Harry. Good luck." A moment later the door to Dudley's room shut behind him.

Shaking his head, Harry took the stairs two at a time, gaining the foyer in time to prevent his uncle from bellowing for him. Harry addressed Dumbledore as he stuffed the carry bag into his school bag. "All done, sir. Will we be leaving soon?"

"Yes, right away. There are three things left to do. I imagine Hedwig will enjoy a flight to Hogwarts much more than being sent there magically, so let's give her her freedom," the headmaster said, smiling.

Harry reached for the cage door, but Professor Dumbledore stopped him. "As a precaution, we must give her a little disguise," he said, drawing his wand. As Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia stepped back looking horrified, the headmaster flicked his wand, changing Hedwig into a Great Gray owl. She hooted indignantly and ruffled her dreary feathers as if to say, _"This had better not be permanent!"_

Laughing, Harry opened the front door and released her saying, "I'll see you at Hogwarts, Hedwig." Hedwig circled the front garden once and then flew north towards Hogwarts. Harry closed the front door and said, "I'm ready."

"Very good. Do you have your cloak, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. "Please put it on." Harry pulled it from his school bag. "Now, I will send these to your new quarters." Again he flicked his wand, and Harry's trunk and the bird cage disappeared. Finally, he turned and bowed slightly to the goggling Dursleys. "I thank you for giving Harry house room. You have done the Wizarding world a service for keeping him these many years."

Neither Aunt Petunia nor Uncle Vernon responded as Dumbledore straightened his hat and then addressed Harry. "And now, let us start a new journey into the unknown, dangerous world."

At the door, Harry paused. "Bye," he said as he slipped under his Invisibility Cloak. He pulled the door closed, wondering whether he really would hear from Dudley.

At Mrs Figg's house, Harry and Professor Dumbledore paused briefly, listening intently. "Per Madam Pomfrey's orders, please go to Honeydukes, Harry," Dumbledore said, glancing out a window over Harry's shoulder in the direction of Privet Drive. "Mr and Mrs Flume know to expect you and one of them will be on hand should you need assistance." He held up a hand as Harry inhaled to protest that he could take care of himself. "In these perilous times it is critical that we travel in groups. One never knows when back-up will be needed. "

A sudden, resounding _BOOM!_ rocked the neighbourhood. Dumbledore nodded in approval at Harry: Dumbledore's charm on the Dursleys' house had just failed.

"Your Aunt has found your letter, Harry, the one stating you will never be coming back?"

"Yes, Professor. I charmed my alarm clock so that only Aunt Petunia would hear it and placed the letter underneath. There was no way she could have missed it," Harry said.

"Good. We must hurry before the Death Eaters arrive. The Order members should be at your Aunt's house now with the only Time Turner left in existence. If your relatives cooperate, the hour Kingsley Shacklebolt is giving them will be enough for them to pack for a short journey. If not, he will have to Stun them before taking them to their safe house.

"I will meet you downstairs next to the lemon drops."

"Yes, sir." With one last smile of thanks to Mrs Figg, Harry stepped into the green flames as Dumbledore Disapparated; He arrived in the Flume's sitting room a few seconds later. Mrs Flume greeted him with a smile and a clothes brush and quickly flicked away the stray soot, after which she directed him downstairs to the shop. Professor Dumbledore smiled at Harry as he entered the shop, thanked Mrs Flume and the two departed for the short walk to Hogwarts.

The afternoon was a fine one, just the sort for a pleasant stroll, but they needed to hurry towards the safety of the Hogwarts perimeter. Even so, Harry was aware of sounds he didn't usually hear during term; birds other than the owls, the rustle of the grass at the edge of the forest that had Harry's head turning frequently as he searched for Death Eaters, a soft breeze that whispered amongst the trees. If they'd had the luxury of a stroll, Harry knew he would have felt at peace.

As they approached the gates, Dumbledore drew his wand and began murmuring quietly. The air around them suddenly seemed charged with electricity and Harry supposed it was the headmaster's magic causing the change. They passed between the winged boars and Harry felt another change, as if an enormous door had gently closed behind him. He smiled up at his mentor as they slowed to a stroll.

As Professor Dumbledore stowed away his wand, Harry noticed a large ring on his left hand. It looked very old and unfashionable. He cleared his throat to gain Dumbledore's attention.

"Professor Dumbledore, is that ring part of your Muggle attire?" he asked.

"Actually, no, Harry," Dumbledore answered. "It is indeed a wizard's ring. And since it is old and very valuable, I wore it today for safe-keeping."

Puzzled by Professor Dumbledore's answer, Harry asked, "Wouldn't it be safer to keep it someplace like Gringotts?"

Professor Dumbledore smiled. "No, Harry, it is valuable in another way."

Harry's eyebrow shot towards his fringe. "You mean to tell me that bauble is one of... _them?_" he asked, his voice cracking on the last word. He still hadn't completely accepted the concept of a Horcrux, although he understood their purpose.

"It is, yes. Don't look so alarmed, Harry. You may recall the Diary was harmless until one opened it. The same applies to the ring. It is perfectly safe, as long as it does not come into direct contact with a certain type of spell," the headmaster remarked. "But enough of this dark subject. I imagine you are quite eager to get to your quarters and then go exploring through Mr Longbottom's greenhouse. Oh, yes, Professor Sprout has turned an entire greenhouse over to him for his breeding projects and experimentation. You are in for a treat, Harry. Let's get you settled in before we venture too much further into the real reason for why you are here."

Harry nodded and tried to shrug off the sense of impending doom that had settled over him at the mention of the Horcrux.

The Entrance Hall was delightfully cool in comparison to the sunlit castle grounds. Harry paused as the front doors closed behind them, unused to seeing the two huge, shiny brass plaques that had been recently hung on either side of the doors to the Great Hall as proof that so many Hogwarts' students had sacrificed a pleasant afternoon to defend the castle and the village of Hogsmeade just three short weeks ago.

"Go ahead and read them, Harry. I'll send Dobby along to show you to your quarters. By the way, you may use your wand while you're here," Dumbledore said as he began ascending the marble staircase. He was almost at the top when a lone Great Grey owl swooped into the Entrance Hall and perched on the balustrade in front of him. Harry recognized the incognito Hedwig by the way she fluffed her feathers; only Hedwig could convey her frame of mind by rearranging her plumage.

Dumbledore laughed heartily at the owl that seemed to be waiting expectantly for something as it did not carry a letter.

"Professor, I think Hedwig would like to have her feathers returned to their original colour," Harry said, unable to contain his grin. "I don't think she's too happy being a Great Grey Owl."

Dumbledore smiled at her and took out his wand. "My dear Hedwig, I had no intention of leaving you looking as if you had tumbled down a chimney. Please, come closer and I will cancel the spell." As Hedwig hopped closer, her feathers became their natural immaculate white. She pulled at one or two with her beak and, satisfied with her appearance, flew down to sit on Harry's shoulder. He stroked her wings as he conveyed her thanks.

"Come find me later," he whispered to her. "You must be tired after your flight. Go have a nap while I unpack."

Hedwig took off for the Owlery as Harry turned to study the Four Founders' Award plaque. He smiled at the sheer number of students, listed in alphabetical order, who had participated with honour in the battle for Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. He was about to inspect the Service to the School plaque when Dobby appeared at his side with a loud crack.

"Dobby is here to help Mr Harry Potter find his rooms. I is very glad to see you," the little elf squealed, throwing himself at Harry and hugging him around the middle.

Harry gently extracted himself after patting the elf on the shoulder. "I'm glad to see you, too, Dobby." He paused and then asked slowly, "Did you say _rooms?_"

"Oh, yes, Harry Potter. Follow me. I is taking you there." The little elf took off at a brisk pace up the marble staircase. Harry was panting slightly by the time he caught up with him on the third floor. Dobby slowed a little and led the way up a last staircase and down an unfamiliar fourth-floor corridor. He stopped when the corridor terminated at a small, circular room in the centre of which sat a statue of **Beaumont Marjoribanks holding a handful of what looked like Gillyweed**. Harry shuddered involuntarily as a particularly slimy memory flitted through his mind.

"Here is your rooms, sir," Dobby said, gesturing to a painting of two Seekers diving after a Golden Snidget. "Dobby brought Harry Potter's trunk and bird cage up already. Just capture the Snidget and you can open the door." He turned to leave.

Bewildered, Harry said, "Hold on. I thought I was staying in Gryffindor Tower with Neville Longbottom."

Smiling, Dobby explained, "You _is_, sir. The rooms behind this painting are part of Gryffindor Tower. This is your private entrance."

"My private entrance," Harry repeated slowly. "Where is Neville's, then?"

Dobby pointed to the painting next to Harry's. A large knobbly plant turned its appendages towards a brightly painted sun. "Right here, sir. There is an adjoining door between your suites."

_Suites? Now this I've got to see,_ Harry thought. He thanked Dobby and reached hesitantly for the Snidget in his own painting. As his fingers closed over the painted golden bird, he felt a doorknob form. He turned it and the painting swung outward.

The wedge-shaped room behind the door was large and richly furnished in beautiful antiques. Straight ahead, a large fireplace dominated the back wall of the sitting room. He could see straight through it into the bedroom and guessed that both of the suite's rooms were heated by the single fire. _ Very clever,_ he thought.

On either side of the fireplace was a door, one leading to his bedroom and the other hopefully to the common room upstairs. He crossed the sitting room, entered the bedroom and was happy to find his trunk in its traditional place at the foot of his bed. He grinned when he realized the furnishings duplicated the décor he was used to in his dormitory. Hedwig's cage sat on a small table next to the window.

There were two doors located on opposite sides of the room. The one on the left wall led to a private bathroom with a large tub that overlooked the Forbidden Forest. The other, on the right wall, was locked and Harry assumed it led to Neville's quarters.

Harry walked over to his trunk. He fished in his pockets for his key and made quick work of his unpacking. He had just finished when he heard someone knock on the locked door. Seconds later, Neville poked his head into Harry's room.

"Hi, Neville!" Harry exclaimed happily.

"Hello, Harry. How are you doing?" Neville asked, glancing significantly at Harry's left shoulder.

Harry smiled at his friend. "I'm doing much better, thank you. When did you get here?"

"Last Sunday. I had a very nice week with Gran and then we took the Floo Network to Honeydukes. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout have been keeping me busy all week."

"That's great to hear. Did you finish your article?" Harry asked, closing his trunk and locking it with a spell.

Neville beamed. "I certainly did. Healer Rodkey sent it to _The Healers' Journal_ yesterday. I'm hoping it will be published soon. Would you like to read it? I have a copy in my safe at the greenhouse."

Harry asked, "Will you show me your experiments, too?"

"I'd love to, Harry. I was just going back when Dobby came to tell me you were here." The two boys exited Harry's suite and Neville led the way through the castle and out onto the grounds. "My greenhouse is Greenhouse twelve, the one furthest from the front doors. Professor Sprout thought I'd have fewer prying eyes way back there once term begins. I think she's right."

Neville unlocked the door using his wand and stepped aside to let Harry pass through. At first, Harry thought the room looked like any other greenhouse he'd been in with its rows of plant tables and scores of little potted plants all in various stages of growth. Neville's original _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ held pride of place in the middle of one of the growing tables. Then he took a second look around.

The back of the room looked like a Muggle chemistry lab. Several cauldrons bubbled over magical fires in one corner. Next to them in a glass cupboard were rows and rows of glass tubing in different lengths and shapes, as well a shelving unit containing books and other scientific apparatuses. In front of the shelving unit Neville had set up an experiment on a large work table. Finally, on the opposite wall from the cauldrons was Neville's neatly arranged desk, which Harry thought contrasted deeply with the disorganization of Neville's part of their dormitory during term time.

"Neville, this is fantastic! I had no idea this was here."

"Neither did I until Professor Sprout began giving me those private lessons Professor Dumbledore arranged. I'm really glad you finally have the time to come see it," Neville remarked. He walked over to his desk, kneeling in front of it to open a cupboard with his wand. "Here is a copy of the article," he said, handing it to Harry.

Harry quickly scanned the neatly written manuscript, noting how precisely scientific it was. Since Neville was looking at him expectantly, he sat in the desk chair and leafed through until he found the Appendix that followed Ginny's daily progress. Much of the language was medicinal in nature and completely foreign to Harry. He quickly handed the manuscript back to Neville saying, "This is fantastic, or at least the part I understand! Can you also show me what you're working on?"

For the next half hour, Neville strolled around the greenhouse pointing to various plants and explaining what he was doing with them. As they walked, Harry felt a surge of pride for his friend's work. _Ginny was right,_ he thought as he listened to Neville's confident tone. _Neville has indeed found his calling._

Finally, they had circled the entire greenhouse. Neville looked pointedly at Harry and said, "I know you told me you were doing better, Harry, but I have a feeling that's not all there is to it. I had a letter from Ron the other day that said you were working out. Are you progressing as fast as you'd like?"

Harry leaned against one of the growing tables and stared up at the glass roof of the greenhouse. Finally, he said honestly, "In some ways I am, but in others I'm not."

Neville's concern was plainly evident as he asked, "In what ways, Harry?"

"My shoulder feels completely normal now, thanks to the exercises my cousin Dudley made me do over and above what Madam Pomfrey prescribed." He stopped, scowling, trying to find the right words. "The rest of me seems… er… sluggish. I run out of breath easily and that… that's what worries me."

"Have you been running or swimming lately?" Neville asked.

Harry shook his head, feeling his ears turn red. "Madam Pomfrey wanted me to wait to do any running until she had a chance to check me over," he said quietly, feeling his ears begin to heat up. "If you really need to know, I haven't been in the water since the Triwizard Tournament—no place to swim until the P-T room was built—and I don't swim all that well anyway." He cleared his throat. "The Dursleys gave me a week's worth of swim lessons only because they had to. I think they hoped that I'd drown someday."

Neville was quiet for a time. He then offered, "If you'd like, we could meet at the P-T Room pool and we could swim together. Gran made me learn when I was little so she wouldn't have to worry about me so much when we went to the seaside." The self-deprecating smile Harry had seen many times in the past crept onto his face as he said, "If I learned, you can improve, too. It just takes practice."

Harry finally looked at Neville, his embarrassment ebbing. "Thanks, mate. Let's start tomorrow morning."

The clock on Neville's desk chimed half five. Harry raised an eyebrow as Neville said, smiling sheepishly, "Dinner in thirty minutes. I've missed it twice this week and thought maybe setting an alarm would remind me I need to eat."

Harry asked, "Shall we go, then?"

Neville was already half-way to the door. He stopped to caress his _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ and then again led the way back up to the castle. The boys dined with Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Sprout and Madam Pomfrey that evening. Time passed quickly and before he knew it, Harry was back in his rooms, contentedly snuggled under the covers of his bed. For now, he was home.


	6. 6 Approval

**Chapter 6: Approval **

Harry woke with a start. Someone had Apparated into his bedroom.Disoriented, he frantically tore at the curtains of his four-poster, gripping his wand which had been under his pillow, and groping for his glasses on his bedside table. His hand connected with an ear piece, knocking the glasses to the floor with a clatter. A second later, a long-fingered hand parted the curtains and gently placed the glasses onto the bed beside Harry.

Harry shoved his glasses onto his nose, breathing hard. "Dobby?" he croaked, throwing back the covers and shoving the curtains open roughly. The house-elf had retreated across the room and was now standing in a corner. A tray of covered dishes sat on the wide window ledge across from his bedside table.

"Good morning, sir. Dobby is bringing Harry Potter's breakfast," said the elf. "Harry Potter has an appointment with Madam Pomfrey. She expects Harry Potter at quarter to seven."

Harry glanced at his watch. He had twenty-five minutes to eat and wash and dress. "Thanks, Dobby for the reminder and the breakfast. It smells delicious."

Dobby beamed as he responded, "Harry Potter is too kind. Dobby must be going, sir."

Harry watched as Dobby disappeared. _Elves are so lucky they can Apparate in the castle, _he thought_._ He walked over to the tray and found a piece of toast, which he munched on on his way to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry knocked on the door between his and Neville's bedrooms. Neville answered the summons holding his book bag.

"I'm going down to the hospital wing for a check-up. Madam Pomfrey is expecting me in ten minutes," Harry said briskly. "Want to come along?"

Neville dropped his bag on a chair. "Sure. Do you think she'll have you swimming this morning? Let me pack my swim trunks, just in case."

Harry groaned softly and stepped back into his room to retrieve his own bathing costume. "Do you think Madam Pomfrey will want us to go to the P-T Room today?" he called over his shoulder.

"I don't see why she shouldn't," Neville replied, sticking his head into Harry's room. "Hey, I'll meet you in the corridor. I need to grab a few things from the other room since I probably won't have time to come back here. I think I have a meeting later."

They met outside their rooms and hastened to the hospital where Madam Pomfrey greeted them with, "Right on time, Harry. Good morning, Neville. It was nice of you to accompany Harry. Please wait for us in the waiting area."

Harry's exam went much better than it had two weeks ago. Madam Pomfrey was pleased with how well his shoulder had healed and asked him many questions about the exercise programme he had done with Dudley.

"Your cousin seems to be a very knowledgeable young man, Harry, to know how to help you recuperate. I hope you thanked him," she said as he handed her the bag containing the post and rubber bands.

"I think I did," Harry said uncertainly. He supposed he should have made certain to thank Dudley, but his emotions toward and memories of his cousin were so jumbled, it had been hard to remember.

"Harry," Madam Pomfrey said, interrupting his thoughts. She peered closely at the scar on his shoulder as she spoke, prodding it here and there with her fingers. "I think it would be a good idea to have Healer Rodkey come in to take a look at this. I'm concerned that the scar tissue may need to be reduced."

Harry frowned, confused. "What's the matter with it?"

"Your scar is wider than I think it should be and is very bumpy in places. It could hamper your movement by not stretching properly in a duel. A little bit of magic should clear that up quickly, giving you full range of motion," she said.

"Tell me what Healer Rodkey would do to it, please," Harry requested cautiously.

Madam Pomfrey quickly explained the procedure and told him what the advantages and disadvantages would be.

At the end of her explanation, Harry asked, "Can I have a day or two to think about it?"

"Of course, Harry," the matron said. "I don't want to force you into something you don't want to do."

"Thanks," he said, feeling relieved.

Madam Pomfrey handed him his shirt. "We can finish our discussion in my office. I think you will be more comfortable there," she said briskly. Neville gave Harry an encouraging smile as Madam Pomfrey led the way through the door to her office, leaving it open.

"How are you recovering overall, Harry?" she asked, once they were seated facing the empty fireplace at the back of the cluttered little room. "Are you feeling strong and healthy? Do you have any concerns?"

"Erm, I'm fine," Harry answered evasively, not meeting her eyes.

"Were there any after-effects from your run-in with Dudley's gang?" Madam Pomfrey asked, looking pointedly at him.

Harry could only answer, "Erm," so she waved her wand over him, casting several spells and frowning at the results. "I want you to be completely honest with me because there are things we can do to help you feel tip-top if you aren't."

"I'm fine, Madam Pomfrey," he repeated, although he knew he wasn't being fully truthful.

"That's not what my evaluation tells me. Your respiratory system seems to be your weak point. Can you run as easily as you did before the battle without getting tired?"

Harry closed his eyes momentarily. He knew the answer. He'd been denying the truth for the past week: something had changed physically after his confrontation with Dudley's gang and he now tended to tire very easily when he forced himself to go faster than a brisk walk. He had buried the truth because it was easier to deal with it that way rather than confront it head-on.

Harry chose to study the half-burned logs in the grate as he confessed, "Breathing is difficult if I go much faster than a quick walk. I tire very easily, too. I don't know why I feel like that."

Madam Pomfrey leaned forward in her chair, looking concerned. "There could be many reasons, Harry, the first being the numerous spells you withstood during the battle in Hogsmeade. If the Death Eaters were using medi-spells for cutting flesh and breaking bones, they could very well have been targeting other areas of the body."

"What about the Cruciatus Curse? The Death Eaters cast it on me at least twice, maybe more," Harry said, voicing the anxiety that had been bothering him since he had noticed the respiratory problems.

"It's possible, but the curse targets the nervous system. Hmm," she murmured, consulting her clipboard. "Yes, I did give you the antidote to counter-act the immediate effects. There is a stronger potion I could give you, but it has some rather strange side-effects if administered outside the time limit. I need to check on that."

"What about my broken ribs? Could I have an internal injury you didn't catch?" Harry asked, grasping at the idea as it popped into his head.

"No, Harry. Your healers mended everything. And before you begin blaming Nymphadora Tonks for a bad healing job at the park, let me remind you that Tonks is a very competent field healer, as good as any other Auror."

"Then why am I feeling so sluggish and out of breath?" Harry asked, still worried that he'd never feel completely well.

Madam Pomfrey reached up and placed her hand on Harry's forehead, as though checking for a fever. A rather odd gesture, he believed.

"It's all here in your head. No, I don't think you're mental, so don't get your dander up. I believe you finally slowed down enough to give your body the time it needed to catch up with the punishment you've been heaping on it for the last six months. Your brain has finally said 'enough!'"

Harry raised an eyebrow, not quite believing what she was saying. "I sleep… a little," he said defensively. _Until the nightmares ruin what little sleep I get…_

"How many hours a night?" Madam Pomfrey asked. "Five hours? Four? Less?"

Harry's guilty silence told her everything she needed to know.

"Harry, that's not enough for anyone!" she said. "Listen to me: when you finally slept long enough for your body to recover from your shoulder injury, it realized it wants more than you're willing to give it. I'm almost certain that if you spend a few more hours in naturally deep sleep each night, you will regain the strength you think you've lost."

"That's easy for you to say," Harry muttered, wishing for an easy way to shut off his busy brain each night, a way to eradicate the battle scenes and the faces of those he had duelled flashing across his consciousness. _A measure of Ginny's Draught of Peace potion would be spot on,_ he thought.

Madam Pomfrey countered, "No, Harry. It's the truth and I can think of at least one way to help you relax enough to get the sleep you need." She waved her wand and a piece of parchment zoomed towards them from her filing cabinet. "These are relaxation exercises that are meant to be done before bed. Do at least three of them each night, for a minimum of fifteen minutes."

Harry scanned the pamphlet, recognizing at least half the exercises from his Occlumency sessions with Remus Lupin. "I thought these were just for Occlumency," he said, smiling genuinely for the first time that morning. "I've done some of these."

"Very good. Resume them," Madam Pomfrey replied sternly. "I'm also clearing you to run and want you to begin tomorrow. Maybe Neville could accompany you." She glanced through the doorway towards Neville, who was still sitting patiently in the waiting area, obviously listening, for his ears turned pink as he glanced down at his somewhat tubby physique. "Since you two are the only ones here this summer, you have my permission to use the exercise equipment and free weights as you see fit." Harry and Neville nodded in agreement. "Finally, Harry, you need to begin swimming."

Harry's head jerked up at this. "I thought you'd say that. The thing is… I don't swim well when I haven't eaten gillyweed. The Dursleys only gave me a minimum number of lessons."

"I said I'd teach him," Neville volunteered, walking into the room.

"That's very kind of you, Neville. Would you like to begin this morning?"

Neville beamed. "Yes, Madam Pomfrey. Is the P-T Room open?"

"Yes. The password is still the same as at the end of term," she said. "Well, Harry, it looks as if we have a plan for your full recovery. Are you in agreement with it?" As Harry nodded she said, "Off you go, then. Enjoy your swim."

**oOo**

The water was pleasantly warm as Harry walked down the steps into the shallow end of the pool some ten minutes later. Neville dove gracefully off the side and swam the length of the pool to emerge at the other end without taking a breath.

"Show off!" Harry called, admiring his friend's ease in the water.

"Let's see what you can do!" Neville challenged.

They made a game of it and spent a pleasurable hour testing Harry's swimming skills before a whistle suddenly caught their attention. Both boys looked up to see Madam Pomfrey standing on the landing above the ramp and nodding in approval.

"Time's up," she said, coming down to the poolside. "I think that's enough for one morning. Are you feeling more in control, Harry?"

Harry nodded quickly.

"Good," Madam Pomfrey continued. "I've put a list of exercises on the wall above the free weights that both of you can follow if you choose to do them. Come down each morning for your workout, Harry.

"Neville, you and I have a fire call with Healer Rodkey at eleven o'clock and Professor Dumbledore expects Harry in his office at half eleven. Enjoy your morning!" Madam Pomfrey called over her shoulder as she left the P-T room. Harry and Neville dressed and began using the exercise equipment.

Nearly two hours later, intent on taking a bath, Harry found a strange owl waiting on his window sill when he entered his suite. He had plenty of time before he needed to go to Dumbledore's office, but he wanted a long soak to rid himself of the many minor aches he was beginning to feel from his morning workout. The bird hooted impatiently and held out its leg.

Harry grabbed an owl treat from the box next to Hedwig's cage and gave it to the owl. It flew out the window in the direction of the Owlery as soon as Harry had taken his letter. The envelope was quite thick and contained two letters. The first was from Mrs Figg, explaining that Dudley had unexpectedly slunk through her fireplace with the request that she send his letter to Harry even though he technically wasn't supposed to have access to the Floo network. "He even said 'please!'" she wrote, sounding amazed. Her owl would wait in the Owlery for Harry's reply.

Harry showered quickly, his long soak forgotten. As he emerged from the bathroom Dobby appeared carrying a tea tray. "Madam Pomfrey sent a special tea for aches and pains, Harry Potter," the elf said, bobbing at Harry's feet. "Harry Potter needs to drink all of it. Shall Dobby remind Harry Potter when to leave for your appointment?"

"No thank you, Dobby. Could you put the tray in the sitting room, please? I have some reading I want to do and thought I'd sit in there," Harry replied, eager to find out what Dudley had to say. _What is so important to Dudley that he would risk a confrontation with Death Eaters to send a letter to me?_ he wondered.

Dobby put the tea tray on the table in front of the sofa and left with a small _crack!_ Harry poured himself a cup and sat back to read his letter. The disjointedness of his cousin's missive showed just how foreign letter writing was to Dudley.

_Harry,_

_As soon as you left yesterday our house felt very strange, as if something had been lifted from it. Do you know anything about it?_

_My workout this morning felt weird. I think I got used to having someone around, even though you kept quiet most of the time._

_Thanks for cleaning all of your junk out of the other room. Now I can spread out a little more. My wardrobe won't be as cluttered now. _

_Dudley_

Harry smiled, cast a warming charm on his cup and gulped down the rest of his tea. _It sure didn't take Dudley long to get moved back into that room,_ he thought wryly. Then he remembered: the Order had taken the Dursleys on an extended holiday for the rest of the summer and Dudley must have been writing from their hotel room. _This letter must be a fake._ Just to make sure there wasn't anything untoward about the letter he drew his wand and muttered a revealing spell.

The letter glowed bright gold for a second before the writing shifted to reveal what Dudley had truly written:

_Harry,_

_Right after you left Mum found a letter under your alarm clock. She wouldn't tell me what it said, but I knew something was up by the look on her face when she ordered me to pack a bag for a trip. She said we might be gone indefinitely. Why? What do you know about this? The freaks who hustled us out of the house wouldn't tell us anything._

_We are staying in a hotel that looks like a mansion, but I have no idea where we are. Mum and Dad are worried what will happen to their house. Mum is frightened something will happen to it while we're gone. Dad is worried he will lose his job if he is gone for more than a day or two. They don't trust the people who took us away even though they said something about new enchantments and memory charms._

_My workout this morning in the hotel gym felt weird. I guess I got used to having you around, even though you hardly ever said anything._

_Dudley_

He stood and crossed the room to the desk, looking for his writing materials.

Back at the sofa, he poured the last of the tea and sipped it slowly as he considered how to approach Dudley's question. What was safe to tell Dudley? Did he know about the protection spells and if not, was it wise to tell him about them? Harry decided the best approach was to be as vague as possible and gloss over the specifics; the less Dudley knew the better. Dudley's workout comment prompted Harry to thank his cousin for sharing his knowledge and equipment. He passed on Madam Pomfrey's comments as well. Finally, he briefly considered making a comment about his aunt, but ultimately decided against it.

He finished writing in plenty of time to find Mrs Figg's owl before his appointment and gently tossed the impatient bird out the nearest window. As he watched the owl fly over the Forbidden Forest, Harry saw two thestrals momentarily leap above the trees. He had to swallow hard to get rid of the small lump that formed in his throat at the memory of his fateful ride on the strangely beautiful animals.

Ten minutes later, Professor Dumbledore ushered him into his office. "Harry, you seem fit this morning," he said, slowly sitting down at his desk across from Harry. "I hear from Madam Pomfrey that you've been making good use of the new Physiotherapy Room. Have you had the pleasure of partaking in her medicinal tea? Marvellous stuff for ridding oneself of small discomforts."

Harry smiled in agreement. "Dobby brought me some tea," he said as he rolled his shoulder to demonstrate, "and I'm not feeling any pain whatsoever, sir."

"Splendid news, Harry," Dumbledore said kindly. "Now then, I am told that Madam Pomfrey has cleared you to Apparate and wants you to gradually resume your previous training schedule. Therefore, we need a quick review: Mrs Chang has agreed to come Monday through Friday mornings for your Tai Chi lessons. You and Neville need to discuss whether they will take place in the pool or in your original room. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks have a very limited time schedule, but will fit you in to their time tables for both fencing and duelling, as time permits. You and Neville, in the meantime, should find some time in your workout to resume sparring."

Harry grinned at this. "It'll be nice to start duelling again," he said. "I wouldn't have lasted as long as I did during the battle if it hadn't been for Tonks and Kingsley. I'm grateful to them."

"As you should be, Harry. Tonks was very upset about you getting hurt, although I noted that she was proud of the reports from the other Aurors about the skill and bravery you showed under fire." Professor Dumbledore consulted his notes. "Ah, yes. Occlumency. How was that going before the battle, Harry?"

Harry shifted his gaze to the sword which hung on the wall in back of Dumbledore. "I'd reached a plateau of sorts, sir, and was having difficulty again. Pro—Remus wanted me to lighten up a little on the number of exercises I was forcing myself to do each evening, take a break for a week or two," he reported. "When I got hurt, I abandoned them altogether and have had trouble sleeping for the last ten days."

"Any pain in your scar or transmissions that aren't yours, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, his voice full of concern.

"Mostly just nightmares about the battle, sir," Harry said quietly, still staring at the sword. "Madam Pomfrey was pleased that I asked for a way to get what she calls natural sleep."

"And has she helped you in that matter?"

Harry looked back to Professor Dumbledore. "Yes. She gave me a parchment about relaxation techniques and I recognized some of the mind-clearing exercises from Occlumency. I'll be starting those tonight."

"Excellent, because you'll be working with both Remus and me on this subject, beginning tonight. Remus can only come in the evenings, and we will work together after breakfast when his Order obligations will conflict with his time with you."

Harry leaned back in his chair and sighed contentedly. Things were coming back to normal, or as normal as it could be for him. "Thank you, sir. I-I'm looking forward to working with everyone again. Even if I have to start over with the simplest tasks, what I've learned so far from my tutors helped keep me relatively safe in Hogsmeade that day."

Professor Dumbledore watched Harry over the tops of his glasses, a small satisfied smile causing the lines in his face to smile too. "Harry, we couldn't have been more proud of you than if you fought side by side with us."

**End of Chapter 6**

**A/N:** Happy New Year to all my readers! I hope you've enjoyed the chapter enough to tell me about it.

I have my usual thank yous to dish out:

To GhostWriter and Bookish327, my pre-betas, thanks so much for your input into this chapter. Each of you catches and adds many things which make my writing better and I appreciate the time you've taken to help me.

To my beta, Aggiebell, thank you for approving this chapter so quickly. I've been nervous that I haven't had time during the last two months to keep up my goal of one chapter a month because real life has kept me away from the computer. I appreciate your taking the time from your busy schedule to read my chapters.


	7. 7 Planning

Chapter 7: Planning

"Here, here!" the portraits around the room added to Dumbledore's quiet praise. Harry could feel his face burning as Dumbledore shushed them. Their occupants fell into feigned sleep again.

Feeling the need to take the attention off himself, Harry inquired, "Professor, the last time we met, you told me we'd be going after Voldemort's Horcruxes. Will we start hunting for them soon?"

"Yes, we will. That is the second topic for our discussion this morning," Dumbledore said. He chose a small, worn piece of parchment from the folder in front of him and consulted it before handing it to Harry. "My list."

Harry stared at the parchment. It was different from the last time he'd seen it.

Riddle's Diary—destroyed

Slytherin's Ring—deactivated

Slytherin's Locket—missing

Hufflepuff's Cup—missing

Nagini the snake—with Voldemort

Unknown Object 1—location Hogwarts (?)

Unknown Object 2

Startled, Harry said, "Sir, you've added a second Unknown Object since the last time I saw this list. Why is that?"

"New evidence," replied Dumbledore vaguely. "However, until we know the locations of all the known Horcruxes and their fates, I do not wish to trouble you with the identity of the possible last object." He paused, his blue eyes drilling into Harry's. "Will you be patient with me on that account?"

Harry nodded uneasily. "We've already identified two of them: the Diary and now the ring you're wearing..." He glanced at Dumbledore's hand, noticing for the first time that day that the ring was absent. "Erm... not wearing, then. I know the Diary was destroyed because I ruined it. I, er, I suppose the ring has now met a similar outcome?"

"That is correct, Harry. We also know that the locket still exists, as does the cup, but they are both missing at this moment," Dumbledore said. "That gives us a total of four that we know of, so assuming that Voldemort wanted to make seven Horcruxes, that leaves us—"

"—three," Harry finished, feeling more than a little overwhelmed. "I assume we will be looking for the cup and two unknown others. Do you have any idea what or where the other two are?"

Dumbledore smiled enigmatically. "I think I do, Harry. Do you recall who I told you the cup belongs to?"

"Yes. Helga Hufflepuff."

"And the locket and ring?"

"Salazar Slytherin," Harry replied, his eyes widening as he made the connection. "You mean to tell me that two of the remaining Horcruxes will belong to Gryffindor and Ravenclaw?"

"Only Rowena Ravenclaw. You see, the viable relic belonging to Godric Gryffindor is here in this office." Dumbledore swivelled around in his chair and pointed at the sword lying in the case behind his desk. "We can rule this one out because one cannot destroy one Horcrux with another. The magic used to conceal the soul fragments won't allow such destruction."

"That makes sense," Harry said slowly, trying hard to see where Dumbledore's logic was going, "because the two fragments of soul… would want to complement each other… rather than be forced to duel."

"That is correct, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "Now what else do you remember about this particular sword?"

Harry smiled. "I pulled it out of the Sorting Hat in the Chamber of Secrets and used it to kill the Basilisk."

"Do you also remember what I said to you about it that night?"

"You told me that only a true Gryffindor would be able to summon the sword," Harry said, suddenly understanding where the conversation was leading. "So you think that if the sword had been turned into a Horcrux, it wouldn't have come to me?"

Professor Dumbledore beamed. "That is precisely what I think. Something as evil as a Horcrux might completely override the original magic and prevent the sword from coming when a true Gryffindor is in need of it."

"And that is why you are certain the sword has not become a Horcrux," Harry said, nodding.

"Yes, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said. "Now, what have you heard about Rowena Ravenclaw and the relics attributed to her?" he continued.

"Not much, sir," Harry replied. "Though I guess that whatever the object is, it's meant to spread knowledge, just because of the intelligence of the students Sorted into her House."

"Correct. There are two possible objects belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw that are consistently mentioned in the legends surrounding her. The first object is a rather ornate goblin-made tiara. It was said to have been imbued with powers to enhance the wearer's mental capacity but was lost long ago. The second object is a beautifully carved wand that was passed down through Ravenclaw's female descendents to the mother of the present-day owner who has never married. You may have seen it, Harry."

Harry regarded Professor Dumbledore dubiously. "How could I have seen it, sir?"

"Where did you purchase your wand, Harry?"

Harry's eyebrows raced for his hairline as he stared at Dumbledore. "You're telling me that Mr. Ollivander _owns_ Rowena Ravenclaw's wand and has had it on display in his front window all this time?" Harry managed to say in spite of his utter astonishment.

"I am. Mr Ollivander told me many years ago that the wand in the window is a paste. For several decades after his mother's death he did indeed display the Ravenclaw wand in his window, with the intention of hiding it in plain sight rather than locking it up where no one would have the chance to look at it," Dumbledore explained. "Then, about twenty years ago, the wand shop was broken into and the wand was taken."

"Did the MLE investigators find out who took it?" Harry interrupted.

Professor Dumbledore shook his head. "I am afraid not, for Mr Ollivander knew who took the wand and was too afraid to go after the burglar because he wanted to stay alive."

"Voldemort?"

"Yes. Or, rather, some of his Death Eaters. Mr. Ollivander immediately put a copy of the Ravenclaw wand in the window and notified me of the theft because of the wand's connection to the school."

"So you've been looking for it ever since?"

"Correct again. I also think I know where the wand, turned Horcrux, is located," Professor Dumbledore said with a small smile. "You see, about the same time the wand was stolen, I had a very unusual and unpleasant visit. Lord Voldemort sent me a request for an interview as I was advertising for a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. The teacher who had replaced Professor Merrythought, the Defence teacher during Voldemort's time, was retiring after nearly thirteen years. I granted Voldemort the interview, but refused to give him the post. He was most unhappy and stormed from this office muttering under his breath. To this day, we have yet to keep a Defence teacher for more than one year."

"That explains it!" Harry murmured, more to himself than to Professor Dumbledore. "The post is cursed!"

"Indeed it is, Harry," Professor Dumbledore agreed, "and I'd very much like to have the curse lifted."

Harry sat quietly, mulling over this new information, until he asked, "Do you think that Voldemort took the opportunity to hide the stolen wand here in the castle?"

"Yes, I do. And it is time that someone went looking for it," Dumbledore said, looking pointedly at Harry.

Harry looked away, panic rising in his chest. _Am I capable of carrying out this mission Professor Dumbledore is asking me to take on? _he thought. _ I'm only sixteen. I'm not ready for this! I don't know enough magic to complete this task. _Harry glanced down at his hands which he had been twisting in his lap. Panicking like this was not a welcome feeling and he chided himself for it. _Get a grip, Potter! You know that if you don't try, how will you know what you're capable of? Dumbledore trusts you. He's arranged for all those people to help you… You'll disappoint him if you don't try… _"Will I have to go alone?" he asked, thinking of how comforting it felt to be scared in someone else's company.

"No, Harry, I would not ask you to go searching this entire castle by yourself. I suggest that, since Mr Weasley and Miss Granger will be here in less than a fortnight, you three go on this adventure together. Going on a search together might just feel like old times?" Professor Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Yeah, old times," Harry said with a shudder, remembering the terror he had felt during their end-of-year escapades his first, second, third and fifth years. "Where do you think we should look?"

"You tell me, Harry. You are in charge of this Horcrux hunt."

_I am? _

Harry furrowed his brow, thinking hard. "What about the Ravenclaw common room? Could we have access to that?"

"A good start, but please remember how many generations of Ravenclaw students have had access to that room." Professor Dumbledore chuckled. "It has been thoroughly searched from top to bottom at least twice every year since I became headmaster. As far as I know, no one has found even one suspect loose flag stone, brick or concealed hidey-hole."

"All right, then what about the Room of Requirement?"

"I would say that is a better possibility because of the room's ability to adapt to the needs of the user." Professor Dumbledore made a note on a piece of parchment.

Harry continued to ponder the obvious places to look. "As much as I don't want to go back in there, would Moaning Myrtle's bathroom be a good place to look? I mean, every girl I know avoids using that loo unless they absolutely have to," Harry said with a shudder.

"I think you are on to something there, Harry. Is there any other place Voldemort might have discovered that would be a good place to conceal a wand?"

"Bathroom, bathroom," Harry murmured, wracking his brain. Why did that idea stick in his head and not let him think? Then, he knew. "The Chamber of Secrets! Only Tom Riddle found that part of the castle when he was here as a student!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"Very good, Harry. You will recall that only one who speaks Parseltongue can open it, so I expect Voldemort thought the Chamber would be just the place to hide his Horcrux."

"I think we'll begin our search there, sir," Harry said elatedly. Then he thought of Ginny and his mood changed swiftly. "I don't want Ginny coming with us. It's going to be bad enough for me to have to go down there, even with Ron and Hermione."

"She has a right to go, Harry," Professor Dumbledore countered. "But I would agree with you; you have been sharing your new-found knowledge with Mr Weasley and Miss Granger only and to tell another person only increases the chance that Voldemort will learn of what you are doing. I do not envy you, for I am sure Miss Weasley will be extremely angry when she is not allowed to accompany you."

"I'll just have to deal with that when the time comes," Harry said resignedly.

Professor Dumbledore nodded and the two sat in silence for a few moments listening to the quiet snoring of the portraits. Finally, Professor Dumbledore asked, "Have you thought about where to look for the other Horcruxes, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. The easiest one to find but not dispose of is the snake because Nagini is with Voldemort. She will have to be last—just before our final duel to the death," he concluded softly with a shudder.

Professor Dumbledore steepled his fingers and regarded Harry from across the desk. "You have no idea how much I regret having to ask you to do this Harry," he said ruefully.

Harry sighed. "It's got to be done by somebody, so it might as well be me."

The kindly blue eyes seemed to pierce Harry's thoughts, somehow flooding him with a sense of calm support. "You know that you can still back out, but if you choose to see it to the end, you will not be alone in this battle, Harry. All your closest friends will be with you. There will be hundreds of people who have lost just as much or more than you have who will be fighting Voldemort and his followers right alongside you when the time comes."

"I know that, sir, and it makes me feel a little better," Harry said, "but the truth is I'm… I'm scared of dying." Harry paused for a long moment. Dumbledore made no sign of interrupting, so Harry continued. "I want to live. I want to experience what I missed growing up."

Professor Dumbledore nodded. "You are speaking of your cousin, I presume?"

"Yeah. Him… and a real family. Like the Weasleys," Harry admitted.

"Or are you wishing that your time at the Dursleys had been like the time you have spent with the Weasleys?" Professor Dumbledore asked wisely.

"Maybe a little of both." Harry stared out the office window at the cloudless blue sky. "Mrs Figg's owl brought me a letter from Dudley this morning. Somehow he managed to get himself all the way to her house via the Floo network."

Professor Dumbledore chuckled. "I have heard about that. Dudley caused quite the panic at his minder's. Apparently, his arrival at Mrs Figg's was due to an overly zealous application of Floo Powder which transported not only his head but his entire body and Dedalus Diggle as well. Mrs Figg assures me that Dudley is quite all right and was rather concerned about what's happening with you." He paused. "Do you mind my asking what he put in his letter?"

"Not at all. He was mostly concerned about my aunt and uncle, although he did mention that he missed me during his morning workout."

"From the reports your minders sent me during your stay at your aunt's this summer, Dudley may have decided you are worth knowing, Harry."

"Yeah, I think he has. It's weird, though. All those years we lived together almost as rivals and then right at the end he decides to be nice to me. I just don't get it…" Harry trailed off.

"Dudley _is_ maturing, Harry. He spends more time at school, away from his prejudiced parents, than he does in their home now. Don't you think some of what he has learned about tolerance at school should stick with him?"

"Maybe, but I think it might have been the Dementors the summer before last," Harry admitted. "Whenever we talk about 'our world' Dudley always mentions them."

Dumbledore smiled. "Then there is something positive about your mutual experience. Be glad that your relationship has improved, Harry. You never know when Dudley might be instrumental in bridging the gap between you and his parents."

"I'll remember that, sir," Harry murmured, looking at the parchment he still held. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "I'll have two more Horcruxes to look for, once Ravenclaw's wand is found. Last time we talked, you said you thought you had located Hufflepuff's cup and Slytherin's locket. Where do you think we should look for them?"

For the next several minutes Professor Dumbledore spoke of his theories involving the two Horcruxes. Harry marvelled at the effort the Headmaster had put into his research; it had probably taken years to formulate his theories and Harry wondered where he had found the time.

Finally, Professor Dumbledore said, "Please remember, Harry, that young Tom Riddle loved to collect things. We know of three places where the Hufflepuff cup could be hidden: first, the Hufflepuff descendents' family home which belonged to Hephzibah Smith and is full of the objects she coveted; second, a Gringotts vault; third, hidden in the Hufflepuff Museum where the cup could be kept safely under surveillance at all times. I would pursue all three places in our search for the cup because those are the most likely hiding spots. Do you agree?"

Harry nodded, and the two turned to subject of the locket. "I have already ruled out two places for I have searched them thoroughly," Professor Dumbledore told Harry, his eyes dancing. "In the near future, I plan to search another very remote location that I cannot divulge at the moment. Would you, on a moment's notice like to come with me, Harry, when the time comes?"

A grin split Harry face. "I would like that very much, sir. How will you notify me?"

"Most likely through Fawkes, for I will want to move quickly when the time comes. To that end, I request that you keep your Invisibility Cloak with you at all times. Will you do that for me, Harry?"

"I will, Professor," Harry said, rising and handing the parchment back to Professor Dumbledore. The meeting seemed over and as Harry surveyed the Headmaster's office, he felt the need to grab his Firebolt and take to the air, something he never had the chance to do during the summer unless he was at the Weasleys'. He gathered his courage and asked, "Would it be all right if I went for a flight around the grounds?"

Professor Dumbledore smiled again. "That would be fine as long as you stay within the castle boundaries, Harry. No flying over the Forbidden Forest."

"Yes, sir!" Harry said enthusiastically and started for the door. He had his hand on the doorknob when Dumbledore's voice made him turn around. "Would you like some company, Harry?"

Stunned, Harry could only gape at the Headmaster. "As a minder?" he managed, feeling his sense of freedom instantly abandon him.

"I would not ask to come if I thought you needed a minder, Harry. I offer only my companionship today. Hogwarts castle is beautiful from the air and it has been quite a long time since I have seen it from that particular angle."

"Then I accept," Harry said happily. "Shall we meet in the Entrance Hall in twenty minutes?"

Harry was ready in fifteen and spent the time remaining studying the plaques from the Hogsmeade battle while he waited for Professor Dumbledore. When the Headmaster arrived carrying an ancient-looking broom with the word "Moontrimmer 1902" painted on the handle, the two pushed through the front doors and stepped out into the warm Scottish summer day.

_If we race, I'll beat him hands down!_ Harry thought, eyeing the ancient broom as he swung his leg over his Firebolt. From his discussions with Ron concerning racing broom history, Harry knew he was facing an historic, but very slow, rival which his modern broom could easily out-fly.

They pushed off and quickly rose into the air, Harry in the lead. Soon, they were leisurely circling the castle, side by side, admiring the beauty of the ancient building. They flew higher and faster and soon were racing around the ramparts of the castle keep. Joy that only came from the freedom of being on a broom filled Harry, lifting his spirits as nothing else could. He glanced over at Professor Dumbledore and discovered the same blissful expression on the Headmaster's face.

They zoomed around the outer perimeter of the Quidditch stadium and then Dumbledore led the way though the maze of towers and out over the lake. He made a tight circle, doubling back towards the school, and when Harry was within earshot, called "I bet you cannot beat an old codger around the lake, Harry!"

"Oh, yes, I can!" Harry called back.

"Then we will see." Professor Dumbledore pointed towards the boat landing across the lake. "The start-finish line, Harry. Flying start. The last one to fly over the landing buys the butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks!"

"You're on!" Harry yelled, grinning, and pulled up beside Professor Dumbledore. They flew evenly until they reached the boat docks, and on Harry's count leaned forward on their brooms and shot forward.

As confident in his Firebolt's abilities as he was, Harry received the surprise of his life when Professor Dumbledore passed him a quarter of the way around the lake. The Headmaster was bent low over his broom's handle, urging every ounce of speed from the ancient Moontrimmer. Harry copied his posture and quickly drew alongside.

Suddenly, Professor Dumbledore dove towards the water, levelling out about ten feet from the iridescent surface. As Harry followed, he thought he heard screechy noises and looked down; the merfolk had surfaced and were yelling and pumping their fists in the air as the two sailed past. Encouraged, Harry willed his Firebolt even faster and skimmed the top of the water, passing Professor Dumbledore from below.

"Oh, no you don't, you young whippersnapper!"

"Eat my dust!" Harry yelled over his shoulder, paraphrasing one of Dudley's favourite telly cartoon characters.

The race continued around the lake and as they neared the castle, Professor Dumbledore passed Harry again, his long white beard streaming behind him from under his armpit. The sight was so funny that Harry momentarily lost concentration because he was laughing so hard, and he fell farther behind his quarry.

"Hey, no fair making me laugh," he yelled, stretching out along the Firebolt's handle so that his chin nearly touched its tip. His speed increased incrementally, gaining back the distance he'd lost. With painful slowness, Harry's Firebolt drew alongside the Moontrimmer as they neared the boat docks again. The two fliers passed over the boats. The merpeople who had come to watch the finish laughed and pointed at Harry who had lost the race by a tail twig's width.

"Good race, Harry!" Dumbledore exclaimed as they zoomed out over the middle of the lake on their cool-down lap. "I prefer my butter beer lightly chilled. How do you take it?"

Half an hour later, the two chose a corner table in the pub. Harry handed over his galleons to Madam Rosmerta and brought their drinks to their table.

"Thank you, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said as he accepted his mug. He took a sip, smacking his lips. "I haven't had that much fun in years."

Harry grinned over the rim of his mug. "I'm glad. Now tell me about your broom…"

**End of Chapter 7**


	8. 8 Visiting Hogwarts

**Chapter 8: Visiting Hogwarts**

The morning of Ginny and Ron's trip to Hogwarts had finally arrived. She had been looking forward to the journey for over two weeks and now that their departure was just a few hours away, she was bouncing with anticipation. Her dad had arranged that, just before noon, she and Ron would go via the Floo Network to Hogsmeade and then, with an escort, walk the short distance to Hogwarts where she hoped Harry and Neville would be waiting at the gate.

Ginny's bag had been packed for nearly a week, more or less, meaning that every time she walked into her room she either put something in or took something out. She knew it was silly to be so concerned with what she was taking—Ron, she knew, would pack ten minutes before they had to leave and forget half of what he wanted to take—but she would not be required to wear her school robes during summer and she wanted to look her best. The trouble was, everything in her wardrobe had come from second-hand shops in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade and, no matter what she chose, all of her clothes had a hand-me-down look to them that she hated.

Sighing and shaking her head in frustration, Ginny threw her hair brush into her bag and zipped it shut. She would just have to be satisfied with the clothes that were now in the bag.

As she descended the stairs to the kitchen Ginny thought about what sort of reaction Harry would have to her appearance. Two weeks ago at Mrs Figg's she had still been carrying her walking stick. Today, though, she didn't need it any more and she hoped Harry would be as pleased as the rest of her family. _Thank goodness, no more Mad-eye jokes! _she thought, entering the kitchen.

Her mother was at the table with the _Daily Prophet_ and an empty cup of tea. As her daughter entered the kitchen she tapped the teapot to refill it. Ginny sat down beside her mother and plucked a large Dough Cake off the plate sitting beside the steaming teapot. She licked the sticky glaze from her fingers as her mother turned to her.

"You've packed all your things already? Your clothes? Your walking stick?" Mrs. Weasley asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Yes, Mum. I've finally decided what to wear this weekend," Ginny said with a slight smile.

"And what about your Transfiguration text and the essay you promised to finish while you're a Hogwarts?"

Ginny concentrated on the doughy spiral of her bun to keep from rolling her eyes. "Yes, Mum. My books are packed."

"Good, good," Mrs Weasley said, smiling. "You know I'm going to at least check your spelling when I get home from London, so I expect you to have the essay complete."

"Mum!" Ginny whined, "I'm nearly sixteen, not twelve! The teachers stopped approving our rough drafts three years ago! Besides, just because Harry and Hermione have their homework finished it doesn't mean mine has to be. I have the whole summer!"

"You and Ron say that every year and then end up staying awake to all hours the last week before school starts," Mrs Weasley commented knowingly. "This year is going to be different; you and Ron are going to follow in Harry and Hermione's footsteps and have your essays done by the end of July!"

"Yes, Mum," Ginny muttered, sighing. Her mother would never understand: there was a reason she and Ron spent that last week before 1 September scrambling to get their essays done. The teachers always wanted to either test them on the summer material or spend the first two days reviewing what had been learned from doing the essays; if she finished her essays too early in the summer she knew she would forget everything she had written about.

At that moment Ron stumbled down the stairs looking half-awake and in need of his morning "cuppa". However, when their mum pushed the tea pot towards him along with her cheery "Good morning, Ronnie dear", he shook his head and mumbled, "Coffee," and shuffled over to the counter.

Mrs Weasley's head jerked upwards and she glared at Ron over the top of her paper. "When did you start drinking coffee?" she demanded as he began rummaging through the kitchen cupboards for the coffee pot and grounds.

A little more awake now, Ron found the coffee pot with a triumphant "got it" and answered, "Hogsmeade battle vigil."

"And when did the house-elves begin putting coffee on the Great Hall tables at meals?"

Ginny came to her brother's rescue. "Mum, there were lots of parents who came up to be with their injured children. The coffee was on the tables for anyone who wanted it, so Ron and Hermione and I drank some." Grimacing, she added, "The stuff tastes awful, but those two seemed to like it!"

Mrs Weasley harrumphed and walked over to show Ron how to properly fill the pot. "Where has the time gone?" she asked as Ron cast the proper spell and the coffee began to drip into the pot. "The last time I looked you two were knee-high to a kneazle and whinging about who took whose pumpkin juice!"

Ginny walked over and put her arm around her mum's shoulders. With a significant look at Ron she said, "Even if we're all grown up we'll always come home for meals, Mum. Bill and Charlie and Fred and George still do. Besides, none of us can cook like you do!"

Mrs Weasley kissed Ginny on the cheek. "Thanks, darling. You make an old mum feel needed," she said. "Now you two go have breakfast. We have some chores to do before you leave."

Two hours later, after finishing the tasks her mother had given her, Ginny closed the door to her room and called up the stairs to Ron, "I'm going downstairs. Mum says you've got five minutes until we leave!"

Several floors above, Ron's door banged shut and Ginny heard him clattering towards her.

"All set?" he asked as he passed her.

"You bet," she said, and picking up the bag she had set on the landing, she followed Ron down the stairs.

Mrs Weasley hugged them as they prepared to use the Floo. "Have fun, but take the time to get those essays done, you two! You'll have the library all to yourselves, you know," she admonished as Ron groaned. "Your father and I will be waiting for your return Monday afternoon. I'll let you know when I expect you. Send an owl if there's any change in your plans."

Ron took a pinch of Floo powder from the flower pot on the mantle and threw it into the fire. As the flames flared green, he said over his shoulder, "We will. Good bye, Mum!" He waved, then shouted, "Honeydukes!" and was gone almost instantly.

Ginny hugged her mother one last time. "Tell Bill we said hello. Have a great time at dinner tonight meeting Fleur, Mum." The flames turned green and Ginny began spinning as Mrs Weasley waved her on her way.

The trip didn't take very long and Ginny soon found herself shooting out of a sooty sitting room fireplace to be greeted by not only Mr Flume and Ron, but Harry and Neville as well. As she straightened up, Harry came forward and held out a hand, pulling her into a hug a moment later. His arms felt strong and solid around her and she could feel his muscles ripple as she slid her own arms around him.

"I'm so glad you're here," he said.

"Good! I'd be worried if you weren't," she joked, pulling away. She reached out and pulled Neville into a loose hug. "How's my favourite Herbologist?"

Neville's ears turned scarlet. "Really well, thank you. Hey, my article has been accepted for the August edition of _The Healer's Journal_!"

"Oh, Neville, that's wonderful!" Ginny exclaimed. "When can we see a copy?"

"I think it comes out the last week of July," he replied as the group responded with words of congratulations. "Next week, sometime."

Mr Flume cleared his throat. "I need to get downstairs. Shall we go?"

Harry picked up Ginny's bag with his left hand and extended his right to her. "Let's go see Hagrid. He's waiting outside."

"Hagrid's our escort? Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed. He started down the stairs, his overnight bag bumping along behind him.

The interior of Honeydukes looked the same as it ever had and Ginny paused briefly to spend a little of her reward money on several boxes of Sugar Quills for Hermione, Chocolate Frogs for Harry and Neville and a gigantic box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans for her brother. What to choose for herself had her completely confused because she wanted a little of everything; Harry solved her problem by pointing to the largest box of chocolates in the display window.

"She'll have one of those," he said, grinning as Ginny playfully poked him in the side with her elbow.

Ginny glanced outside at the hot summer day. "Won't they melt on the way up to Hogwarts?" she asked.

"The boxes all have cooling charms on them, dear," Mrs Flume explained. "Same as our chocolates counter. The charm lasts until the leaves outside begin turning red and by that time, your chocolates will be long gone."

"Don't be too sure about that," Ron commented. "My sister has been known to save even the smallest box of chocolates for weeks!"

Ginny glared at Ron but said nothing, choosing instead to smile graciously at Mrs Flume who had just closed the lid of the box and tapped it with her wand. "Thank you," she said, taking her purchases. "I'll get another box for my mum and dad when I come back on Monday."

The four teenagers exited the sweet shop and greeted Hagrid who was sitting on a stone bench under the shop window.

"Thanks for coming to escort us," Ron said as they began the walk up to the castle.

"My pleasure, Ron. Later this weekend, you and Ginny will have ter come by and see the month-old hippogriff I'm raising. Little thing's jus' getting' her feathers. Right pretty, she is."

"Hagrid, what do you know about the renovations on the village?" Harry asked. "This is the first time I've been off the grounds since I got here, and I'm surprised that not much is being done to rebuild."

Hagrid sounded sad as he said, "Well, with You-Know-Who still at large, people're scared. Loads of 'em left the village after the battle. Not too many of the little shops will be openin' again this Fall—jus' the major shops like Scrivenshaft's and Gladrags. The post office building was finished two days after you lot lef' on the train. The postmaster made sure everyone received their mail on time and was able ter send their letters when they needed ter. Zonko's is talking about not reopenin'."

"I remember how grateful several of my classmates were to the postmaster for doing that," Ginny commented. "Now what's this about Zonko's?"

"Well, they migh' not open if the Board acts on its decision ter cancel the Hogsmeade visits scheduled for next year," Hagrid explained. "It's too hard ter guarantee the students' safety when you lot come into the village. If You-Know-Who decides he wants ter attack again, he'll most likely choose another Hogsmeade Visit day ter split the defendin' forces in two again," he told them over the group's protests.

Harry mumbled something Ginny didn't catch and slung an arm over her shoulders, pulling her close. The reality of the war was pressing in more than ever this summer than it had during last term and after Hagrid's news, they followed Hagrid to the gates and up the sloping drive to the castle in silence.

Dobby met the group in the Entrance Hall and took them to their rooms.

"Dobby, why are we stopping here? I thought we'd be using our normal dormitory rooms," Ginny commented as they came to a circular room decorated with a statue and five paintings.

"These are the Gryffindor guest suites, miss," Dobby explained. He indicated a painting of three Chasers throwing a Quaffle between them and another of a Keeper defending his goal hoops, then described how to open the doors. "Harry Potter and Mr Neville have suites over there," he said, pointing. "Now, best you settle in quickly. Lunch will be served in the Great Hall at half past twelve. Miss Granger will be arriving shortly after lunch."

"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed as Dobby Disapparated and he tried the inventive way of opening his painting. Ginny didn't know whether Ron's comment meant he liked having his own room or whether he was pleased that Hermione was arriving a day early. Smirking, she suspected it was both.

Ginny stared in wonder as she entered her own sitting room behind the Chaser painting. Never had she imagined the castle had private rooms such as these. Hugging herself with happiness, she ventured further into the suite towards the bedroom. It was everything she had ever wanted in a private room and in no time, she was unpacked and enjoying the view from her bedroom window when someone knocked on her door.

She opened it to find Harry standing there grinning at her. "Brilliant, aren't they," he commented, looking around her suite. "Mine's just like it. Neville's bedroom is connected to mine and we share a staircase to the Gryffindor common room. Who do you share connections with?"

"Both my extra doors connect with the empty room. I suppose I'll be sharing with Hermione, then," she answered. "I'm going to enjoy that."

"Good. Shall we go see Neville's greenhouse before lunch?"

Ginny grinned. "Absolutely!"

It was really good to see Neville. He gave them and Ron a thorough tour of his private laboratory and proudly showed them a preview copy of _The Healer's Journal_ the editor had sent him that morning. Ginny was in awe of what she thought of as Neville's private domain, and couldn't help smiling at the fact that he looked so completely relaxed and at home surrounded by his beloved plants and experiments.

At one point, an alarm clock went off, making her jump. Neville smiled at her saying, "Time for lunch. We've got ten minutes to get up to the Great Hall."

Lunch was delicious and before she knew it, she and the three boys were trudging down the drive towards the gates to meet Hermione, whose golden brown suntan contrasted with Ginny's pale skin and smattering of freckles. Ginny felt a stab of jealousy which she immediately suppressed.

As soon as she stepped through the gates, Hermione launched herself at Ron, hugging him fiercely. Then turning to Ginny, she exclaimed, "Ginny, you're not using your walking stick!"

Ginny grinned happily. "I don't need it any more!"

"Oh, that's wonderful news," Hermione said, throwing her arms around Ginny. Then, turning to Harry, she greeted him with a more reserved hug.

Harry embraced her with both arms. "I won't break, Hermione. I'm completely healed," he said as they broke apart.

"I'm so glad, Harry!" she exclaimed, turning to Neville.

Under Ron's critical eye, Hermione quickly embraced their fellow Gryffindor. The five then trudged up to the castle, Harry carrying Hermione's heavy bag with his left hand, where they spent the afternoon in the Gryffindor common room exchanging travel stories and planning their activities for the rest of the weekend. While the boys talked Quidditch, Hermione taught Ginny how to Transfigure an object into one of her surveillance dragons. She also taught her how to make the dragon fly and cause it to transmit information back to another object that had been transfigured into a crystal ball.

All too soon, Dobby appeared to inform them that dinner was in three-quarters of an hour and that they should use the time to dress. Dinner that night was to be a rather formal affair. Professor Dumbledore had sent notes with Dobby asking everyone to wear their best Muggle clothing, so Ginny put on one of the two sun dresses she had brought just in case. She sincerely hoped she didn't look as if she were wearing second-hand clothes and was grateful to Harry, who let out a low whistle when she met him and the others at the statue.

Only one table was set up when Ginny, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione entered the Great Hall a few minutes later. It was round and set for fifteen. The adults were already seated and they greeted the young people with words of welcome. Ginny understood why Professors Dumbledore, Sprout, McGonagall and Flitwick were present as well as Madam Pomfrey, but she was surprised to find Neville's grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, Healer Rodkey and, looking quite pompously official, her brother Percy at the table as well. Adding to her curiosity, two strangers—an older teenage boy and his mother—were seated between Healer Rodkey and Percy, who rose and held out her chair, much to Harry's annoyance.

"We have gathered together to celebrate the achievements of a very talented student, Mr Neville Longbottom," Professor Dumbledore announced once everyone was seated.

Neville's ears began turning crimson.

"Without his dedication and perseverance, Miss Ginevra Weasley would not be with us this evening, nor would our guest, Mr Sheldon Wakefield. You see, Mr Wakefield is the second recipient of Mr Longbottom's marvellous nerve regeneration potion. I am very happy to say that you, Mr Longbottom, have given the magical world a truly miraculous gift. The article detailing the potion's discovery will be appearing in next month's issue of _The Healer's Journal_. In addition, the Ministry of Magic has awarded Mr Longbottom a grant of ten thousand galleons for further research on this subject. Mr Percy Weasley is here tonight representing Minister Scrimgeour. Mr Weasley..."

Percy rose stiffly from his chair. "Please stand, Mr Longbottom," he requested. Neville did so and Percy continued, "On behalf of Minister Scrimgeour and the Ministry of Magic I present you with the nation's highest civilian honour, the Paracelsus Humanitarian Award, and a thousand Galleons to further your research on Nerve Regeneration Potions. My family, the Wakefield family and healers around Great Britain are grateful for your contributions to Wizarding medicine." He picked up his goblet and a wooden plaque that had been lying in front of his plate and walked round the table to Neville. He handed him the plaque and a large sack that clanked and raising the glass, he intoned, "To Neville Longbottom."

Ginny stood up and raised her glass in salute to her friend, emotion flooding through her. She felt so grateful to Neville and so proud of the fact that his efforts were being recognised. But most of all, she was glad to call him her friend, because their friendship was what had brought about Neville's desire to help her in the first place. Harry must have sensed something in her mood because just as the first tear slid silently down her cheek, he reached out and pulled her towards him in a wonderfully comforting, one-armed hug.

The rest of dinner was a blur of conversation and replacing of plates between each of the courses. Ginny remembered only scattered moments of it, such as Sheldon's story of how Healer Rodkey had approached him in his room at St. Mungo's and told him about Neville's potion. She also recalled Percy's stilted "It's good to see you again, Ginevra." However, the best moment by far came at the end of the meal when Augusta Longbottom stood regally from her place and came round the table to stand facing her grandson. "Neville," she said, laying a wrinkled hand on his cheek, "you are everything your father was and much, much more. I couldn't be prouder."

"I can't believe Gran said that to me," Neville said to Ginny as they sat sipping cups of special after-dinner tea with Professor Dumbledore. It was nearly nine o'clock and the students were the only ones left at the table; the other teachers had escorted Neville's gran, Percy and the Wakefields to the school gates once everyone had the opportunity to congratulate Neville. The headmaster seemed reluctant to leave the Great Hall and was entertaining his students by telling stories of the castle's past. Finally, Hermione's curiosity seemed to get the better of her and she raised her hand as if in class.

"Miss Granger, do you have a question?"

"Yes, Professor. I know that many people contributed to the Battle of Hogsmeade and that they were recognized at the end of term," she began. "However, I don't understand something. Why... er... why was Draco Malfoy given an award at the Leaving Feast? He wasn't even there."

Silence fell as everyone waited for Professor Dumbledore's answer. Finally, he said, "You are referring to the Service to the School award and are wondering why someone like Draco Malfoy would receive such a thing?"

Hermione nodded.

"As surprising as it seems, Mr Malfoy did perform several services to our school including finding and protecting a group of five first years who had wandered close to the front gates and were caught in the Forbidden Forest when the pixies and Death Eaters began their attacks. He risked his life taking the students first to the Quidditch stadium and then back to the castle. His fellow Slytherins urged him to stay inside and finish the detention he was serving with Mr Filch, but he returned to the gates to defend the school. For his efforts with the first years, he earned a place on the Services to the School plaque."

"But anyone could have done that!" Hermione protested becoming slightly agitated.

Ron whispered, "Calm down!" to which she responded, "I will not!"

"Yes, they could have and they did, Miss Granger, but what sets Mr Malfoy apart from the others in his peer group is that he has been accorded a second honour by the school Governors, the Distinguished Service Medal," Professor Dumbledore continued over Hermione and Ron's whispered argument.

Hermione and Ron stopped arguing abruptly. "Why? What did he do?" Ron asked, finding his voice first.

"When he returned to the gates, Mr Malfoy joined the other students defending the castle."

"So what? Lots of people were trying to keep the Death Eaters out of the castle grounds," Ron said.

"Yes, they did, but not everyone was put under Bellatrix Lestrange's Cruciatus Curse," Professor Dumbledore remarked matter-of-factly. "They also didn't face Lucius Malfoy and refuse to join him in trying to destroy the school."

"But Harry fought Mr Malfoy, Professor. I saw him!" Neville interjected.

"I realize that, but Harry wasn't his son whom he was intent on trying to destroy. And although Harry's battle with Lucius Malfoy left him injured, he wasn't hurt internally by his father's Disembowelling Curse as Draco was." He paused as everyone sitting at the table shuddered. "Besides, Harry's battle with Lucius Malfoy came much later in the day, after Draco was found by some seventh year Hufflepuffs."

"Where was he taken?" Ginny asked quietly.

"At first Madam Pomfrey tended to him, but as soon as she stabilized him, he took a Portkey to a safer place," Professor Dumbledore said, looking pointedly at Harry.

"How come we weren't told this after the battle?" Harry enquired angrily.

"I shared Mr Nott's and Mr Zabini's plights with you, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said calmly, "even if I didn't include Mr Malfoy. Although, once you consented to letting Madam Pomfrey set up the recovery space, the three were immediately taken there to convalesce." As Harry opened his mouth again, the headmaster said, "I am very thankful to you for providing a safe house for Mr Nott, Mr Zabini and Mr Malfoy. They are nearly recovered to the extent that they can be moved to a less restrictive environment."

Harry closed his eyes and murmured, "You're welcome, sir." He pushed back his chair and walked away from the table a little way. When he came back two minutes later he was much calmer. Ginny reached for his hand under the table.

"Where will they go once they leave the safe house?" Hermione asked.

Professor Dumbledore held everyone's gaze before he answered her. "Reunion with their families is out of the question due to various circumstances. The three will be coming to Hogwarts on the first of August. They will live in the Slytherin guest suites just as you five are staying in the Gryffindor suites."

"So that's it, then," Harry remarked, looking resigned. "Neville and I will be sharing the castle with the Slytherins for the rest of the summer. Will they need time in the P-T Room?"

Professor Dumbledore said quickly, "You'll need to talk with Madam Pomfrey about that, Harry. It is my opinion that you and Neville will not be in contact with your classmates unless it is absolutely necessary. As you know, this castle is rather large." He cleared his throat. "Now, if Miss Weasley and Mr Longbottom will please excuse us, I have some things to discuss with Mr Weasley, Miss Granger and Harry for a few minutes before we go our separate ways."

Surprised, Ginny glanced at Neville, who shook his head and began gathering up his things. They exited the Great Hall as quickly as they could, shutting the huge doors behind them.

"What was that all about?" Neville asked as they climbed the marble staircase. "Why can't we know what Professor Dumbledore needs to discuss with Harry, Ron and Hermione?"

"I think he might be talking about Harry's plans for getting rid of Voldemort," Ginny answered.

"How do you know that?"

"Well, the last week before we left for the summer Harry was constantly meeting with Professor Dumbledore over something," Ginny said cautiously.

"And we're not supposed to know about it," Neville finished for her.

"That's what I understand. Harry's been very concerned that I'm feeling left out because Professor Dumbledore asked him not to tell anyone but Ron and Hermione about their meetings," she told him, stopping next to one of the suits of armour and leaning against its plinth. She looked up as she heard the creek of metal; the armour had cocked its helmet as if it was listening. "I'm all right with that, I suppose."

Neville's eyebrows rose towards his hairline. "You are?"

"The fewer who know Harry's plans, the better, you know? Keeps him safe and if not knowing will bring him back all in one piece, I understand."

"That makes sense, but I still feel a little left out," Neville said, starting up the corridor again.

"Why?" Ginny asked, catching up to him.

"I don't get it. All that duelling training we've been through has been to support Harry, right? If you, Luna and I aren't going to be allowed to go with Harry on his searches for Voldemort, then what's the point?"

Ginny stopped and blocked Neville's way, her hands on her hips. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you, Neville Longbottom!" she said heatedly. "Not after talking with Sheldon Wakefield tonight! He's proof that your potion really works, because his injuries were very different from mine. Do you realize how much you've done already because of your role in supporting Harry?"

Neville shook his head, looking somewhat bewildered. "No," he mumbled.

Ginny pressed on. "Sheldon and I have our lives back because Professor Dumbledore thought you had the potential to find things through your Herbology research which would help not only Harry but the rest of the Wizarding world… and he was right! Look at me!" She flung her arms wide. "I'm standing here because of something _you_ developed! It may not affect Harry directly, but it surely will have an impact on those of us who will be hurt fighting Voldemort!"

"How…"

"Neville, there will be a lot of people with nerve damage due to spells and other battle injuries in the near future because they believe in fighting for the same freedom we do and they are all going to need your potion! I'd think you'd be really proud of your achievements!" she finished.

Neville had backed up a few steps while Ginny was speaking, "I am," he said slowly. He gazed down at the plaque and money bag he carried, a slow smile lighting up his face. Finally, he said, "You sure know how to bring things into perspective, Ginny. Thanks."

"You're welcome, Neville. You're welcome," Ginny said, smiling.

**End of Chapter Eight**


	9. 9 The First Excursion, Part 1

**Chapter 9: The First Excursion, Part 1**

**Author Note: The descriptions of the Chamber of Secrets and its contents were taken directly from portions of Chapters 16 and 17 of _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_. The anti-gravity mist was first described in Chapter 31 of _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire._**

It was still dark when Harry knocked quietly at Ron and Hermione's portraits on Sunday morning. He had hardly slept, tossing and turning until the bedcovers were twisted about him. His mind simply refused to settle down enough for him to relax. As a result, he felt a weariness that he hadn't experienced in several weeks and an anxiety that had turned his insides to ice and his knees to jelly. The tiredness he could deal with; he'd had enough experience with that while he waited for Ginny to wake up in March. This anxiety was new, though, and he wondered if Ron and Hermione felt the same way.

A tremendous guilt gnawed at him, too, because he was leaving Ginny behind without talking to her after the meeting with Professor Dumbledore. She had not responded to his knocks on her portrait when he, Ron and Hermione returned to their suites at nearly midnight. Harry hoped her silence merely indicated she had gone to bed. Now they were leaving before dawn and probably wouldn't be back until very late.

He went back into his sitting room and sat at the desk to write a note to Ginny. The wording had to be vague, he knew, but it still needed to give her a sense of where they were going. Finally, he put quill to parchment.

_Dear Ginny,_

_Ron, Hermione and I will be gone exploring the castle all day. Our starting point is the second floor and hopefully, we should come back that way._

_Please don't wait up for us if it gets too late. We have instructions to go directly to Professor Dumbledore's office when we get back. I'll come find you when we're done._

_Harry_

Sighing, Harry slipped the note under Ginny's portrait door just as Ron emerged from his suite, carrying a small pack and looking just as tired as Harry felt. Hermione tapped Harry on the shoulder a moment later, making him jump.

"Sorry, Harry. I'm a bit nervous," she said in a low voice. She hitched her bum bag a little higher on her hips and smiled tightly at him and Ron.

"I left a note for Ginny," Harry said, glancing at Ron.

"Thanks. I'm sure she'll be angry that we left her behind, but what can we do?" Ron asked.

Hermione laid a hand on Ron's arm. "She'll be all right with it, won't she, Harry?"

"Yeah, we've talked a little about what I have to do because of the Prophecy and I think she understands," he said, glancing past the statue of **Beaumont Marjoribanks at Ginny's door. "Well, let's go, then."**

**The other two nodded and they began their trek to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on the second floor, Hermione quietly listing all the things she had in her bag, including several potions she'd managed to wheedle out of Madam Pomfrey just in case. Harry barely listened; he was concentrating on storing up confidence to face the unknown terrors they might encounter during their search.**

The bathroom hadn't changed since the night of Ginny's rescue from the Chamber of Secrets; not the damp floor, or the guttering candles. The spotted mirror and the chipped sink reminded him vividly of the night he had first entered the chamber. The door to Myrtle's cubicle lay on the floor next to the wall where it seemed to have fallen, and the ghost herself sat in the cistern of the toilet. She perked up at the sight of the trio.

"Visitors! In the summer, too!" Moaning Myrtle chortled. Her face fell at the sight of their jeans, t-shirts, boots and packs. "Where… where do you think you're going?"

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione before answering. "Down into the Chamber of Secrets, Myrtle."

"Whatever for?" she asked.

"There's something down there that Professor Dumbledore needs," Hermione said, "and he's asked us to retrieve it for him."

"Oh," Myrtle said, sinking down into her U-bend. "I'll be glad to show you what fun it is to float through walls, should you die down there."

Harry shuddered, but didn't respond. Instead, he turned towards the last sink and commanded the tap to open in Parseltongue. As soon as the pipe was revealed, he looked at Ron and Hermione who were now standing quite close together. "Ready to get dirty?" he asked with more bravado than he felt. He stuck his leg into the pipe.

"Wait, Harry," Hermione said, stepping forward. She drew three burlap sacks from her bag. "Sit on this to cushion your landing."

Ron winked at Harry as Hermione placed a sack on the edge of the pipe. Harry thanked her, lowered himself onto the sack and shoved off. The slide was just as fast and twisting as he remembered it and he could hear Hermione's shrieks as he descended below the school. Happily, the sack did cushion his landing when he reached the bottom and landed in a slimy puddle. Harry quickly scrambled out of the way as Ron and Hermione came shooting out of the pipe together on the same sack.

The three left the sacks at the bottom of the pipe, and lighting their wands, began the trek down the tunnel. They passed the basilisk skin, Hermione stopping briefly to examine it. At the rock fall, they worked carefully to enlarge the hole Ron had made four years previously before they clambered through, the boys retelling the story of Lockhart's demise as they went.

They reached the solid wall concealing the entrance to the Chamber faster than Harry remembered doing last time. "Stand back," he said. "I need to concentrate."

Ron and Hermione did so and Harry concentrated on believing the two carved snakes with emerald eyes were real, live guardians of the cavern on the other side. The Parseltongue phrase came easily and the three held their illuminated wands high overhead as they crossed the threshold into the Chamber of Secrets, Harry in the lead.

Behind him, Ron and Hermione stopped and gaped in awe at the enormity of the room in front of them. "Blimey, it's huge!" Ron exclaimed, his voice echoing several times over. "You said it was large, Harry, but I never dreamt it was this big!"

Hermione walked up to Harry and held out something. "You might want to use this," she said, lighting a powerful Muggle torch. "I charmed it to work without batteries."

"Thanks, Hermione." Harry took it, somewhat distracted by the disturbing recollections that were churning up from the depths of his memory, and played the beam over the walls, highlighting the serpentine columns and finally bringing it down on to the floor. The last time he had been here, the stone had been smooth but dusty. With no Basilisk to keep debris at bay, four years of rubble and dirt littered the floor, including a half dozen shiny, round rocks.

Harry began walking towards the back of the room, Ron and Hermione following and conversing in whispers. He stopped about three-quarters of the way down the room and turned towards his friends.

"Yes, Harry?"

In answer, Harry played the torch along one of the side walls revealing a gruesome splattering of a dark substance that could only be blood. He lowered the beam and it fell on the massive head of the Basilisk skeleton lying on the floor between two columns in a pool of dried blood. More blood was spattered in a circular pattern around the body.

"Oi, Harry! You fought _that_ in _second_ year?" Ron's voice squeaked on the last two words. Hermione giggled nervously.

"Yeah. Though Fawkes helped me. I think the fang is still on the floor somewhere," Harry said, walking closer to the dead snake and peering over the body. "Here it is." He hesitated as his torch revealed a large dark stain on the floor where the ink had poured from Tom Riddle's diary. Not knowing why he didn't want Ron to see the stain he said, "Er… Ron, don't come over here. I'll just… get the fang myself."

There was curiosity mixed with confusion in Ron's voice as he asked, "Wha… Why do you want it?"

Harry shrugged. "Souvenir?" He pocketed the fang and turned towards the statue of Salazar Slytherin, which he could just barely discern in the gloom.

"Hold on, Harry," Hermione said. "Let's gather everything we can carry and leave it by the door."

"Huh? Why?"

Hermione pointed at the ink puddle. "Oh, don't be so dense, Ron. If Harry's fang could do that to the diary, maybe the other teeth would be good to take along while we're searching for the rest of the Horcruxes?" She walked over to the huge head and peered at it closely. "Madam Pomfrey wants the skin and ribs for potions ingredients."

Harry stared at Hermione, his eyes wide. "You told Madam Pomfrey where we were going?" he managed to squeak.

Hermione scowled at him as she said icily, "No, Harry, I didn't. Professor Dumbledore did. He wanted her to be ready for us if we needed her. That's why she gave me all those potions I showed you. I said I'd try to get some ingredients for her in exchange." She pulled her dragon hide gloves from her bag and put them on. Five minutes later they had a sizable pile of fangs waiting by the entrance along with several ribs and four large intact sections of Basilisk skin.

Harry consulted his watch. They had been under the school nearly an hour and still had yet to get to the statue. As he turned to lead the way, Ron held out his hand for the torch. "I'd like to go first," he said quietly. "I want to see where…" He stopped, unable to go on.

"… Where Riddle took Ginny," Harry finished for him. He gave Ron the torch and told him to lead the way.

"That was really nice, Harry," Hermione whispered as they followed Ron.

"He got cheated last time," Harry commented. He couldn't say more over the lump in his throat.

They stopped at the foot of the huge statue of Salazar Slytherin and Ron shone the light at its feet for a full minute before casting its beam upwards towards the ceiling.

"The mouth is still open," Hermione said, pointing to the gaping hole in the statue's face. "What luck!"

"How are we going to get way up there?" Ron asked.

Hermione harrumphed and reached into her pack again. She pulled out a miniature grappling hook, a coil of rope and a bottle marked "Enlarging Solution" and handed the rope and hook to Ron.

"Hold this," she commanded. She poured a drop of the solution onto the rope and one on the hook. There was a puff of smoke and a loud clang as Ron dropped the heavy hook onto the floor. Hermione smiled smugly at the two boys as she put the bottle back in her bag.

"Brilliant, Hermione," Ron exclaimed, carefully coiling the rope and setting it beside the hook. With his wand, he began levitating it upwards and into the statue's mouth. When it had settled with a distant clang inside the opening, he tugged on it to see if it would catch on anything. The hook came flying out. It hit the floor, gauging an inch-deep hole in the rock.

It took them three more tries before the hook finally caught on something securely enough to bear their weight.

"I'll go first," Hermione volunteered.

Harry shook his head. "No, I'll go first. Your levitation spells are better than mine. Ron and I know you can catch us if we fall." And before she could protest, Harry put on his own gloves and began the ascent.

It was hard going; Harry wished mightily for a Muggle climbing harness, but they hadn't thought to bring one. As it was, his arms began burning with the effort half way up the statue, but he dug down and found the energy to climb the last fifteen feet. He scrambled over the lip of the mouth; Hermione came up next with Ron bringing up the rear. He coiled the rope and placed it just inside the statue's lips. They rested for a few minutes, taking stock of their surroundings.

They were in a narrow tunnel that led far into the rock. It was tall enough to stand in, with roughly hewn walls and a smooth, but dusty floor. Where the walls met the floor lay a continuous pile of tiny skeletons and a few more of the curiously shiny, round rocks; the centre of the tunnel was free of debris.

Once his arms stopped shaking, Harry asked, "Shall we?"

Ron and Hermione nodded and the three of them climbed to their feet. Again, Harry took the lead. They followed the tunnel straight back for some fifty feet before they came to a faintly glowing golden mist. If Harry hadn't been shining the torch on the walls and ceiling, he would have never seen it.

"What's that?" Ron hissed from his place behind Hermione.

"I think it might be something I encountered during the Triwizard Tournament," Harry said, taking a step forward to peer at the mist.

"What does it do?" Hermione asked.

"It turns the world upside down," Harry answered with a shudder. He was not looking forward to going through the mist again.

"That doesn't sound too scary," Hermione said. "I'll go through first."

"No, I'll go," Ron said, stepping forward.

"Oh, stop trying to show how tough you are," she shot back at him.

Ron opened his mouth to retort, but Harry cut him off. "Look. I've been through this thing. It's no big deal. Just watch what I do." He gave Hermione the torch.

She scowled but said nothing. Ron crossed his arms saying, "Go on, then."

Ignoring his friends, Harry stepped forward into the golden mist. Immediately, the world turned upside down as it had in the maze; the smooth floor of the tunnel had become the ceiling, onto which his feet were glued. Just like last time, his glasses slipped off his nose and dangled by one ear piece and his hair stood on end. Panic threatened to overtake him as he wondered how big a knot he would have on his head if he banged it against the rough rock he was hanging over. He hoped Hermione had something in her bag to heal bumps and bruises. Cautiously, he extended his hand over his head. Touching the rough rock helped to bring things into perspective. He closed his eyes and taking a deep, calming breath, he wrenched his left foot away from the stone ceiling. The world righted itself and Harry sank to his knees for a moment to clear his head before walking a little further down the passage to give Ron and Hermione room.

"That was weird!" Ron exclaimed as he and Hermione joined Harry a few minutes later.

"I thought that, and more, fourth year," Harry commented as they moved further into the tunnel. He stopped suddenly, listening. "Do you hear that?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other and shook their heads. "No. Let's just keep going."

Harry flicked the torchlight over the walls and ceiling of the tunnel. Nothing. "I must be imagining things," he muttered.

They continued on down the tunnel, all three now alert to any danger that might be lurking ahead. Suddenly, Hermione sucked in her breath and pointed to the ceiling. Ron and Harry followed her finger and Harry heard the rush of air before he saw the eyes peering at him from overhead. Ron pointed to Harry's torch and they all drew their wands as he slowly passed the beam of light across the rock. The eyes disappeared and reappeared in another place just outside the circle of light. A creepy feeling came over Harry as he found not one but dozens of small, perfectly round holes bored in the ceiling. He shone the torch into one of them, but could not see a thing. Instead, he felt a rush of air.

"See anything?" Ron asked.

"Nothing. Must be an air shaft of some sort," Harry said. He took a step forward, but went no further as the air was rent by a shrill scream.

Out of one of the shafts swooped a snake-like winged creature with two legs and lots of needle-sharp teeth. It dove at Harry, snapping its jaws and causing him to duck. Hermione screamed as it flew at her face and Ron aimed a spell over her shoulder at it. The spell ricocheted off the tunnel wall, nearly hitting Harry.

"What is that thing?" he yelled as the creature's ten-foot long tail whipped past his head. "It's huge!" He cast a freezing charm that worked only long enough for Hermione to answer.

"I think it's an Occamy."

"They're not native to Britain, are they?" Harry called as the Occamy shook off the spell, circled and came at Ron from behind.

"No, India," Hermione answered for him. "How did you know that?"

"Defence, I think. Maybe Hagrid's class."

"What do they eat? Ears?" Ron yelled as the Occamy swooped at his head, leaving long, deep gashes near his ears with its clawed toes. He threw up his hands and managed to bat the serpent-like creature away, adding a few new gashes to the scars on his arms.

"No, rats. Look at the bones on the floor! Ron, stop that! It's coming at me again!" Hermione shrieked. She aimed her wand at the creature and fired a spell that went wide as the Occamy deftly flew past it.

Harry aimed his wand at the Occamy, but thought better of it as the creature wielded around and began chasing him. He whirled and aimed a Stunning spell at the place he thought the Occamy would be in a few seconds. The creature saw the spell coming and dodged it, hissing and spitting. Enraged, it dove at Harry, its jaws wide. He ducked and sent a stinging hex at it which struck its nose, but impeded its progress for only a second.

"Aim for its underbelly!" Harry yelled, now backing up and taking aim again as the Occamy herded them a little further up the tunnel. He bumped into Hermione and his next spell went wide, ricocheted off the jagged ceiling and came hurtling towards them. The Occamy let out a shrill scream and redoubled its efforts to get at them.

Hermione pushed Harry aside, knelt and fired several spells in rapid succession as Ron threw a Shield around them. The spells missed, but Ron's shield kept the creature from coming any closer. Hissing, the Occamy darted back the way it had come; it came at them again, flying low to the ground in a zigzag pattern this time.

"This thing's impossible to hit!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry asked the first thing that popped into his head. "Do you think it might be defending something? Like a nest?"

"Or a Horcrux?" Ron suggested.

"Who knows," Hermione said as magical ropes flew out of her wand and missed the dodging Occamy. "But I think it's herding us away from that air shaft. Look out, Harry!"

The Occamy was attacking again. Harry dove to the side to avoid it and felt his elbow connect with the wall of the tunnel. He dropped his torch. It went out, plunging the tunnel into darkness. As it clattered away, he landed on the piles of animal bones with a sickening crunch and skidded along the smooth floor on his backside.

He swore, then yelled at Hermione, "What are you trying to do?"

"Tie it up!" she answered, illuminating her wand.

Harry watched as the Occamy flew towards the ceiling, passing Ron and Hermione overhead and diving at them from behind, its angry scream rending the air. Harry aimed again and managed to break the Occamy's wing, spraying the floor of the tunnel with its blood. It flew erratically, pushing them towards the mouth of the tunnel again. Ron and Hermione jumped over Harry in their haste to find a way to trap the creature.

"Group Stunners!" Ron suggested as Harry scrambled to his feet. "On my count. One, two, three!"

This strategy worked only minimally; the Occamy froze in mid-air when the three spells hit its body. Then, hissing and spitting, it plummeted to the ground, landing on its spindly legs. It ran towards Harry, separating him from Ron and Hermione, snapping at his feet, its tail whipping wildly from side to side and preventing them from following too closely. Harry tried a repelling charm, but the Occamy pushed against it with its own magic, forcing him back towards the mist. He felt the tunnel wall curve and knew they didn't have very far to go.

"The mist! We're trapped," Harry called to his friends as Hermione directed another spell at the wounded Occamy.

Her aim was true. "Got it," she cried triumphantly as the Occamy finally tumbled over, its tail twitching. It did not get up. Her triumph was short lived, though, because the spell, which had hit the tunnel wall as well as the Occamy, bounced wildly back at them.

"Run!" she shouted, pointing back up the tunnel. All three raced back towards the golden mist, Harry leading the way, all the while hoping the curve of the walls would somehow prevent the spell from finding a target.

As he rounded the bend, Hermione suddenly cried out behind him. Harry tried to stop but was instantly jerked upside down; he'd run into the mist again. From where he hung, he watched in horror as Ron stopped, grabbed the torch from where it lay amongst the animal bones and sprinted back down the tunnel towards Hermione. Guilt-ridden, Harry listened to their conversation, helpless to do anything but deal with the mist's disorienting power.

Ron spoke first. "Hermione, Hermione! What happened? Are you hurt?"

"Foot slipped… tripped over something… something round and slick…" Hermione choked between sobs. "Tried to catch myself… I think my wrist is broken."

Harry's stomach clenched. Hermione was hurt and it was entirely his fault. He shouldn't have asked his friends to come with him! Now Hermione was hurt and he couldn't do a thing about it.

Angrily Harry wrenched his foot away from the floor as Ron said, "I'll try. But I've never done it before. Ginny always cast the spell for us." He paused and Harry fell forward onto all fours. He heard the fear in Ron's voice he asked, "Ready? _Episkey!"_

Harry stood up, his head still spinning, and jogged over to where Ron was sitting on the floor of the tunnel with Hermione who was leaning against the wall surrounded by scattered animal bones. The torch, Harry was happy to see, was still providing the needed light.

"It didn't work, Ron," Hermione wailed, cradling her left arm. She bit her lip as tears coursed silently down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ron said, looking miserable. "I don't want to try again and end up hurting you more. I told you I wasn't Madam Pomfrey!" He raised his eyes to Harry as he knelt beside them. "Any suggestions?"

Terrified that anything he recommended would hurt Hermione further, Harry suggested, "Let's just splint it like Lupin did your leg that time in the Shrieking Shack, Ron." To Hermione he asked, "Do you have anything with you for pain?"

She squirmed a little and unhooked her bum bag, handing it to Harry. "Madam Pomfrey gave me some vials of pain potion. I think they're in the larger compartment," she said tearfully.

Harry rummaged through the bag and found one of the familiar vials. He popped the cork and handed it to Hermione who gulped it down. A minute later, the pained expression left her face.

"How are you feeling?" Ron asked, shoving aside a pile of bones and little round rocks and putting his arm comfortingly around Hermione.

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Better, but it won't last. Harry, could you splint my arm for me?"

Touched by her confidence in him, he performed the spell. Seconds later, Hermione's wrist was neatly immobilized. "Thank you, Harry. It feels much better already."

He gazed at her as he asked, "What do we do now? Hermione, it's your call."

She wiped her eyes on the handkerchief Ron had given her. "I can go on," she said bravely. "I want to finish this."

Harry and Ron both nodded in silent agreement. "We'll go whenever you're ready, then," Harry told her and a few minutes later he and Ron helped her up and they headed further into the tunnel, Ron's arm still around Hermione.

**End of Chapter Nine**

**A/N:** Many thanks to my beta Aggiebell for taking the time out of her busy life to make sure I've dotted my I's and crossed my T's and put my commas where they should be.

I hope you've enjoyed this first part of the trio's excursion. Chapter ten is a continuation of their adventure, so it will be a "Harry" chapter instead of one from Ginny's point of view. I also hope you will take the time to review the chapter. I always write back, so you'll get feedback too.


	10. 10 The First Excursion, Part 2

**Chapter 10: The First Excursion, Part 2**

As they walked down the tunnel, bleak thoughts flew through Harry's head. The excursion had been going so well. They'd met their goals of getting into the Chamber, collecting ingredients, finding the fang, climbing into the statue's mouth. Then, disaster for Hermione and now he couldn't seem to think of a way to get her back down to the chamber floor without hurting her. Guilt threatened to overwhelm him.

The tunnel suddenly ended; a wall of smooth stone blocks barred their way. Harry swept his light slowly over the barrier as Ron and Hermione came to stand beside him. They gasped as the torch revealed line upon line of carved symbols.

"Well, that's it. We're done for," Harry said, kicking at one of the strange round rocks that littered the tunnel floor. It rolled away the way they had come. He turned to follow it.

"Wait, Harry," Hermione said. "I recognize these carvings. They're runes."

Harry turned back towards the carvings. "Are you sure?" he asked uncertainly. He wasn't sure it would do any good to try to decipher them to get past the blockage.

"I think so. Give me a minute." Hermione held out her hand. "May I have the torch, please?"

Harry handed it over and went to stand next to Ron. He felt Hermione didn't have a chance of translating the runes, let alone solving whatever puzzle Voldemort had left here.

Hermione spent a long time peering at the runes on the wall, giving Harry and Ron time to study their surroundings and conduct a whispered conversation about how they were going to get Hermione out of the tunnel's mouth. When the only thing they could agree upon was that they were hopelessly stuck, Harry nearly gave up.

As Hermione finally shook her head and said in a despairing voice, "I have no idea what this says. I can't concentrate, and I feel so sad," Harry kicked one of the round rocks that littered the sides of the cave. To his surprise, it squealed as it sailed through the air and landed with a pitiful thwack further down the tunnel where it lay still instead of rolling or bouncing away.

Ron bent down and picked one up. "Harry, come take a look at this!" he said. "Have you ever seen one of these around Hogwarts?"

Harry shook his head, studying the rock. On a whim he reached over and tickled it. The rock suddenly sprouted a hairy body and tiny legs and feet underneath a smooth, oversized grey head. Ron gasped and dropped it. The thing scurried for cover under the piles of animal skeletons.

"I take that back. I _have_ seen them. Defence Against the Dark Arts, third year! I think they're Pogrebins! You know, those demons that depress their victims in order to eat them. Didn't Professor Lupin say they're a distant cousin to the Hinkypunk?"

"Yeah, he did. But what would some Russian demon be doing here in Britain?" Ron asked.

"Voldemort could have brought them," Harry reasoned. "I wouldn't put it past him. He would think it was a funny way to discourage someone from going further." His gaze travelled from Ron to Hermione to the rune-covered wall. "I think we've found the Basilisk's nest."

Hermione and Ron gazed at Harry, who smiled for the first time since they'd entered the tunnel. Taking out his wand, he cast Cheering Charms on them and himself as Ron asked, "How do we get rid of the Pogrebins?"

"Hex or kick them," Hermione volunteered. "And hurry before the charm wears off." She turned back to the wall, a determined look on her face.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Ron asked. He took aim at the biggest Pogrebin and yelled, "_Rictusempra!_" The Pogrebin took to its legs and raced down the tunnel towards the entrance.

"Brilliant, Ron!" Harry cried and sent a Jelly-Legs Jinx at a second large stone-like creature.

Before long, Harry and Ron had cleared the area in front of the wall and were in hot pursuit of the little demons as they chased them towards the tunnel's entrance. They stopped before they reached the golden mist and shared a smile. Things were looking up.

Hermione had copied the runes and was sitting on the floor of the tunnel studying the symbols she had copied when Harry and Ron rejoined her.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked as they sat beside her.

"Pretty good, considering." She left it at that and pointed at her parchment. "I think I know what this says. It's a riddle. I think we have to solve it to get past the wall. The thing is, we only get one chance to get it right. If we answer wrong, the tunnel caves in."

"Just like the Third Task," Harry muttered.

"What's the riddle say?" Ron prompted impatiently. "If we're gonna die, we might as well get it over with."

"You're a cheery one," Harry commented. He looked expectantly at Hermione.

"All right, here it is," she said.

"_First, think of the name for fancy eggs,_

_The kind people eat that sprout fins, not legs._

_Next, think of an animal with a distinctive call,_

_If it leaves London's Tower, Great Britain will fall. _

_Finally, the foot of an animal quite fierce_

_Has these on its toes to hold and to pierce._

_Put these together to give me the name _

_Of one of the founders of Hogwarts fame."_

"Let's take this apart," Harry said. "All the clues to the right answer are here."

Hermione read the riddle again.

"Why would people eat anything but chicken eggs?" Ron asked. "Anything else is disgusting."

"Muggles eat caviar at fancy parties," Hermione said, thoughtfully.

"What's caviar?"

"Fish eggs, Ron. There's another name for them, but I can't think of it right now." She made a notation on her paper next to the first two lines, and then read the second clue.

"You know Muggle history better than I do, Harry," Ron said. "What will make Great Britain fall if it leaves?"

Harry smiled. He'd known this story for nearly ten years. "Ravens, Ron. If the ravens ever leave the Tower of London, the country of Great Britain will fall to the next conquerors to cross the sea," he said.

Hermione's eyes widened. "That's it! Harry, you've solved the riddle!" she exclaimed gleefully. She continued in a quieter voice. "We needed the name of a Hogwarts Founder. I think the name we want is Rowena Ravenclaw!"

"She's the original owner of the Horcrux we're looking for," Ron added.

Harry could feel his ears warming as she said this. "How do you know the answer is right?"

Hermione's face took on its "isn't this obvious" expression. "Fish eggs are fish roe. The bird we needed was a raven and every fierce animal has claws at the ends of its toes. Put that all together and you get 'Row Ravenclaw'," she told him.

"Now what do we do?" Ron asked.

"I think we ask," Harry said.

"I'm not asking. You can do the honours, Harry," Ron said, helping Hermione up.

Looking between his two friends, Harry knew they wanted it to be him who did the asking. So, feeling rather foolish, he scrambled to his feet and turned towards the wall. "Is the answer to the riddle 'Rowena Ravenclaw'?" he asked in a clear, loud voice.

As soon as he said the name, Harry could feel a change in the tunnel's atmosphere. From deep within the rock a grinding noise began, faintly at first, then growing progressively louder. Just when he thought he'd have to back away down the tunnel, the stone wall gave a tremendous shudder and began to sink into the floor, revealing a large circular room beyond the arched entryway. The walls and ceiling were faced with the same smooth stone blocks as the rune wall.

"Wicked!" Ron exclaimed as they crossed the threshold.

"Oh no! Not more runes!" Hermione groaned in despair. She sat down on the floor and began scribbling madly, copying the runes she could see in the light of Harry's torch. "Harry, slow down! I can't copy that fast," she complained.

Harry stopped and turned around, leaving his torch trained on the group of runes in front of him. "Hermione, stop. Look at your parchment. Didn't you translate something else from the wall?"

"Oh, I did, didn't I?" she said as Ron began randomly tapping the stone blocks with his wand. "It says here that the seeker shall look for a sign of royalty."

"A sign of royalty? Like crowns and sceptres and orbs and stuff?" Ron asked hopefully.

"I suppose that's what we're looking for," Hermione said reluctantly getting to her feet.

"Good. Sit down, Hermione, and conserve your strength. You're going to need it to get out of here," Ron told her.

Grumbling, she sat down in the middle of the chamber and began scanning the carvings while Ron and Harry did the same in different parts of the room. They worked in silence, not daring to speak.

Harry closed his eyes when the runes began to look the same and unconsciously reached out with his magic. He could feel the evil, dark magic that had created the room and then used it as a nest for centuries afterwards. He felt, too, a newer dark magic, one that was meant to conceal something. He honed in on this and suddenly knew where the Horcrux they sought was hidden. As he drew his magic back inside, he felt Ginny's inquiry. It made him smile.

_How's it going? Are you all safe?_

_So far, yes._

_Good._ Ginny paused, then said, _You're holding something back from me, Harry. Spill it!_

_Erm... we've... we've had a bit of trouble._ Harry told her reluctantly. _Hermione has a broken wrist. _

Ginny immediately asked, _Have you and Ron done anything for her?_

_Yes,_ Harry answered. _We've splinted Hermione's wrist and she's still keeping up, but will need to see Madam Pomfrey when we get back._

He felt Ginny's relief as she said, _I'll tell her, Harry. I hope you find what you're looking for._

He sent her a mental grin as he said, _I think we're almost there._

_Good. Hurry back, Harry._

He felt Ginny pull back and was momentarily saddened at her absence in his mind. Then he renewed his concentration and walked over to a section of wall they had not yet scanned. On the wall, at shoulder level, was the picture of a crown.

"Ron, Hermione, I think I've found it!" he exclaimed. He pushed gently on the stone and it fell heavily into his hands.

With Ron's help, Harry lowered the stone to the floor and then shone the torch inside the opening. At the back, sitting on a tiny pedestal, was Rowena Ravenclaw's wand.

"Let me get it," Ron said suddenly.

Harry gaped at him. "I'm right here."

"It might be booby-trapped, Harry. You heard what Dumbledore said last night about how the ring was protected. We've got to be careful and cast those revealing charms he taught us," Ron said determinedly.

Harry sighed tiredly. Ron was right and he, Harry, was not thinking sensibly. Together they cast the three charms Professor Dumbledore had taught them the night before. When nothing glowed, pinged or blew up, Harry reached cautiously inside the opening and closed his fingers around the wand. It felt warm to the touch and he sensed a conflict within its very core. _I'm touching a real Horcrux!_ he thought as he cautiously withdrew the wand from its hiding place. He held it up for Ron and Hermione to see.

"This is it," he said quietly, holding the wand up for them to examine the beautiful carvings. He put it in his bag. "Time to get back to Professor Dumbledore."

Ron let out a tired sigh as they passed unharmed through the chamber's opening and remarked, "That was too easy. I never expected to just be able to waltz out of the Basilisk's lair without any trouble."

"Don't be too sure," Harry said, "we're not past the statue's lips yet."

"Why do you say that?"

"Voldemort can be rather vindictive when he wants to be. He sets traps for those who have been lulled into a sense of complacency. Be ready to pull your wand at any moment."

They made good time traversing the tunnel on the way out. The Pogrebins seemed to have left the tunnel entirely and so had the golden mist that had caused them so much trouble.

When they reached the statue's mouth, Harry turned off the torch and gave it back to Hermione who secured it in her bag saying, "I won't need this until we're ready to leave the Chamber and I don't want to put it in my pack with the Horcrux."

She nodded, but said nothing.

Ron took off his belt and lengthened it a little. He looked significantly at Harry as he said, "I can take Hermione down on my lap. She'll need help going over the edge."

Harry gave a curt nod.

Hermione frowned as if to say, "I'm right here, boys. I can do it myself." Then, drawing Hermione close to him, Ron secured the belt around her waist. She didn't protest.

Ron put on his dragon hide gloves and peered over the lip of the statue. "Long way down," he muttered as he picked up the loose end of the rope and handed it to Harry. To Hermione he said, "Give me a second to get over the edge."

Hermione nodded and with Harry's help, climbed carefully between Ron's arms. When she was ready, the two of them began the slow descent to the feet of Slytherin's statue with Harry assisting from above.

"Come on down, Harry," Ron called when he and Hermione were safe.

"Be right there," Harry called. He grasped the rope and lifted his leg to swing it over the lip of the rock and nearly fell over. Instead of going over the lip like he had anticipated, he encountered a solid wall of invisible air. It was situated just behind where the teeth would have been on a normal person and as he tentatively pushed against it, he was pushed back down the tunnel by this mysterious invisible wall.

"Harry, what's keeping you?" Ron called up.

Harry tried to exit again, but the wall held him securely inside the tunnel. As he called down his report, a grinding noise, similar to the one he had heard when the rune wall had moved, made him pause and look down. To his horror, Salazar Slytherin's mouth was closing, and closing fast!

"Harry, can you hear us?" Hermione called.

"Yes!"

"We're going to try to keep the mouth open for you," she called. A moment later the grinding stopped.

Harry thrust an arm through the statue's lips and to his surprise his arm passed through the barrier. The rest of his body however was not allowed to pass. Whatever was holding him within the tunnel clearly could distinguish between items touching his bag and body parts that were not.

_Think, Potter, think!_ he commanded himself. How had the statue opened before? He wracked his brain, whizzing through the painful memories of that night so long ago. Then, he knew.

"Open up!" he commanded in Parseltongue. Nothing happened. He took his wand from his pocket, pointed it at the opening and tried again. Nothing happened. Frustrated, he jammed his wand in his jeans pocket, took off his pack, extracted Ravenclaw's wand and tried again, pushing on the wall at the same time.

He didn't know why, but it worked. Harry thrust the wand through the hand-sized opening in the wall and dropped it as the wall once again began to close, catching his arm and holding him in place. The tunnel shuddered as the giant lips began closing again, this time at a much faster rate. Far below, he heard Ron Summoning Ravenclaw's wand as it fell, and Hermione vainly trying to keep the stone lips from closing.

It was no use. The mouth slid closed over Harry's hand and began cutting off his circulation. The pain was almost unbearable. Desperately, he tried to pull his arm away, but he was stuck fast. More memories flew past his consciousness as he tried to remember what Tom Riddle had said to make the statue open its mouth. Then, he remembered.

Clutching his own wand in his free hand, he shouted the Parseltongue phrase with all his might, "Release me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four!"

For a painful second he thought nothing would happen. Then, ever so slowly, the wall holding him in place began to dissolve and Slytherin's mouth opened wide enough to allow him to scramble through. Harry stood on the lip of the statue, breathing deeply and waiting for the feeling to come back into his hand. As soon as he could make a fist, he thrust his hands into his gloves and gripped the rope. His arm hurt with the effort.

"I'm coming down," he called, throwing his leg over the mouth of the opening and sitting on the statue's lip.

"Do you need help?" Ron called. "Can you grip with your hand?"

"Not very well," Harry answered. "I'm coming down anyway."

"We'll help," Hermione called and he felt a spell encircle him. "All right, Harry, come on down."

Whatever spell she had cast on him made rappelling down a lot easier than it otherwise would have been. As he cleared the giant chin the mouth began to close again, but Harry didn't care. They had come out of the tunnel relatively unscathed and he only had a few more yards before his trainers would touch the floor. Then, ten feet from the ground the grappling hook lost its hold and came sailing from between the statue's lips, bringing his forgotten pack with it. The rope was yanked from his hands and he felt himself falling. But thanks to Hermione's Arresting spell, Harry merely slid down Slytherin's beard more slowly than he thought he would and landed with a soft _thud_ between the statue's toes.

"Cushioning charm," Ron said when Harry had scrambled to his feet.

"Thanks," he said, grinning. "I'm glad that's over."

"Yeah, I agree. Let's get out of here." Ron handed the Horcrux to Harry who put it back in his bag and the three of them turned towards the door to the entrance tunnel.

Hermione put a hand on Ron's arm, stopping him. "My pain potion's worn off. Ron, would you get me another vial please?"

Harry stood slightly apart from Ron and Hermione, letting them have a moment of privacy and giving himself a few seconds to gauge the damage done by the statue to his arm. From what he could see by the light of his wand, it was nothing but some bruises; he'd be sore for a few days if he didn't put dittany on them soon, but that was all.

"All set," Ron said, coming up behind him and tapping him on the shoulder.

Harry took one last glance around the chamber. "Let's go," he said. "Feeling better, Hermione?"

She nodded affirmatively and reminded Ron and Harry to stop at the Chamber entrance to pick up the potions ingredients they'd saved. Then, after making sure the doors closed with a final bang, they started back along the tunnel towards the rock fall and the burlap sacks they'd left beyond.

As they walked, Harry thought, _We're finally done, Ginny! We're on our way up._

Ginny answered at once. _Harry? Thank goodness! Neville and I were beginning to get worried. It's been nearly twenty hours since you left. Are you all right?_

He smiled as he told her, _We're fine... dirty, but fine, mostly. We'll be there in a few minutes. Hermione's been brilliant and Ron's been a rock! I'll tell you what I can when we get up there._

_All right, Harry. See you in a few. _

_Yeah. Thanks, Ginny._

Ron and Harry helped Hermione through the hole in the rock fall and soon they were standing at the bottom of the pipe. Harry picked up the sodden burlap sacks. "These won't do us much good now," he said, dropping them back onto the floor.

"No, but they did make the slide down a lot more fun than last time," Ron said. He knelt and rummaged in his pack, pulling out his Cleansweep and Harry's Firebolt. Harry accepted his broom and looked at his friends in the dim light of their wands. Ron had an arm around Hermione's waist as she straddled the broom in front of him, her injured arm cradled against her stomach.

She sucked in a breath, then said, "All right, I'm ready. Let's get this over with."

Harry led the way and several minutes later found himself once again standing on the sopping wet floor of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. As Ron and Hermione landed next to him, he was engulfed in a bone-crushing hug.

"Don't you ever just go off and leave us like that again, Harry Potter!" Ginny exclaimed, stepping back. "And you, Ronald Weasley... no note, broom gone! Thank goodness Harry was nice enough to leave something under my door! Do you know how worried Neville and I have been?"

Ron burst out laughing at his sister's tirade. "I should have known you've been taking lessons from Mum," he said, giving her a hug.

Neville stepped up, his discomfiture with his surroundings evident on his face. "I recommend you don't go anywhere without telling her again," he said to Harry. He stuck a finger in his ear. "I'm glad you're back."

Harry chuckled and muttered his thanks. "Ron, Hermione, we'd better get this stuff to Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey."

The five set off for the headmaster's office. At the gargoyle, Neville said, "Ginny and I will wait here, mate."

"We'll try to get this over with quickly," Harry said, yawning. He gave the gargoyle the password and it jumped aside, letting Ron, Hermione and Harry take the spiral stairs up to where Professor Dumbledore was waiting.

"Welcome back, you three!" Professor Dumbledore exclaimed when they entered his office. "Were you successful?"

Harry smiled tiredly as he withdrew Rowena Ravenclaw's wand from his bag and handed it over.

"Well done. I expect this was quite the adventure from the looks of you," the headmaster said. Harry glanced down at his clothes and noticed that he was as grimy as he had been the first time he'd entered the Chamber of Secrets to rescue Ginny. "Did you have much trouble?"

"Some," Harry answered. Together Harry, Ron and Hermione recounted the events of their excursion. They left out nothing and Professor Dumbledore only interrupted when clarification seemed necessary. He sat in silence, staring at them over his steepled fingers, when they were done.

"Thank you," he said finally. He picked up the ancient wand, caressing its beautiful carvings. "Pity," he muttered, shaking his head. His gaze swept over the three teens in front of him. "Who wants to do the honours?" he asked.

Harry spoke first. "We'll do it together, professor," he said. "As a team. You, me, Ron and Hermione."

"And your weapon of choice?"

"Gryffindor's sword," He answered.

"Very good." Professor Dumbledore opened the glass case behind his desk and extracted the gleaming ruby-encrusted sword. He handed it to Harry, then gave Hermione the wand. She set it on the stone floor as Dumbledore came round his desk.

"What's the best way to do this, sir?" Ron asked.

"That crevice between the stones should hold it steady," Dumbledore answered, pointing at the floor. "We will all take hold and cleave the wand on my count. Ready?"

Hermione, Ron and Harry gathered in a circle with Professor Dumbledore round the Horcrux. As Harry positioned the sword above it, the Horcrux began to tremble violently and he felt the fear within the wand. Before he could change his mind, he nodded to the others to place their hands on his and together they plunged the sword into the shaft of the wand.

Nothing happened for a moment. Then, an eerie wail filled the office as the wand split in two with a resounding CRACK! Harry and the others jumped back as luminous green smoke issued from the wand's core and formed a Dark Mark that nearly filled the room.

"_Deletrius_!" Professor Dumbledore commanded and the Dark Mark vanished.

"Professor! Professor! Is everything all right in there?" called Neville's voice through the office door.

"We are quite all right, Mr Longbottom," Dumbledore called back. "Please fetch Madam Pomfrey for us. We are done with our business and Miss Granger needs looking after."

"Yes, sir," Ginny and Neville called together.

When Madam Pomfrey arrived five minutes later, the office had been cleared of any evidence of the Horcrux's presence and the sword of Gryffindor was back in its case. She was all business as she approached Hermione and removed the splint on her wrist.

"Please tell me everything," she requested.

They told her only what they felt was necessary. She examined Hermione thoroughly. "How long ago did you take the second dose of pain potion?"

"Nearly an hour ago," Harry answered.

"You're a very lucky witch, Miss Granger," she said when she finished. "Mr. Weasley did indeed fix the break when he healed you."

"He did? Then why did my wrist hurt so much after Ron cast the spell?" Hermione asked.

"You had a normal reaction to the spell, but more likely the pain was fuelled by anxiety and fear. The three of you didn't know if you'd been successful, so your precautions were justifiable. You're right as rain, Miss Granger, thanks to your friends' quick thinking," Madam Pomfrey said approvingly. She turned towards the door, but stopped when Harry thanked her.

"We also have something for you," Hermione said, holding out the biggest collection bag containing the Basilisk skin and bones. The fangs, Harry knew, were still concealed in Hermione's bum bag.

Madam Pomfrey gaped at the collection bag. "Thank you," she breathed and Harry found it funny that the normally unflappable matron seemed completely speechless. The smile left his face when she asked, "May I share this with Professor Snape?"

"Erm... I suppose so," Hermione said, surprised. "It's yours to do with as you please."

"Very good," Madam Pomfrey said. "There is a rare and powerful healing potion which I will have him brew with these ingredients. He is much more successful with this particular potion than I have ever been. Thank you. I appreciate your efforts in procuring these ingredients for me."

She turned and bustled out of the office.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I believe there are two very anxious people waiting by the gargoyle for you," he said, his eyes twinkling. "It is late and the night grows short. I suggest you three go back to your quarters and get some rest. I will have Dobby bring trays to your rooms." He stood and walked them to the office door. "Thank you," he said, extending his hand to Harry, then Ron and Hermione.

The three said good night and descended the stairs to join Ginny and Neville for the walk back to Gryffindor Tower. They walked in silence, Harry with his arm around Ginny.

Later, as the sky above the mountains turned light grey, Harry joined Ginny in the Gryffindor common room. They ate together on the sofa facing the dancing fire, Ginny's head on Harry's shoulder.

When they finished, Ginny pulled up the sleeve of Harry's shirt and examined the deep purple bruises caused by the statue.

"You went in that hole in Slytherin's statue, didn't you, Harry." It wasn't a question.

"We did."

Ginny giggled quietly as she commented, "I'm very glad it didn't eat you alive."

"Me, too," Harry said. He wondered absently whether it was too late to put dittany on his arm.

"Be right back," Ginny said suddenly. She sprinted down the girls' staircase and came back a few minutes later with a small bottle. "It's not dittany, but Mum's liniment always helps with the bruises I get playing Quidditch."

Harry reached for the bottle, but Ginny shook her head. "Let me," she requested.

Harry nodded and held out his arm. He didn't know which felt better, the liniment taking away the stiffness and pain or the gentle circles and light pressure Ginny was using to apply it. It didn't really matter. He laid his head back and finally, completely relaxed.

"How does that feel?" Ginny asked as she put the stopper back in the bottle.

Harry opened his eyes. He flexed his wrist and made a fist. "Heavenly," he told her. "Thank you."

He bent his head and placed a kiss on her forehead. She responded by lifting her head and capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. Harry felt her love flood through him, as well as her relief that he was safe and her anger at being left behind.

He pulled back. "I promise to let you know before hand, if I can, the next time Ron, Hermione and I go on an excursion," he said, determinedly.

"Thank you, Harry. That's all I ask," Ginny said. "I'm glad you're back safely from this one."

"Me, too, Ginny. Me, too." He bent his head once more to capture her lips. The sun rose steadily over the mountains as they deepened their kiss and eventually fell asleep in each other's arms.

**End of Chapter Ten**

A/N: So ends the adventure, but not the story. There are many exciting things to come, including Ginny's reaction to being left behind which you'll read about in the next chapter.

Many thanks go out to my pre-betas GhostWriter and Bookish327 who helped me clarify the action and Aggiebell, my beta, whose sharp eye for spelling and comma mistakes changed "row" to "roe" when I was talking about fish eggs and wasn't smart enough to spell the word correctly!

I sincerely hope you have enjoyed the chapter enough to tell me about it. Thanks for reading.


	11. 11 Reunion

**Chapter 11: Reunion**

Ginny woke with a start, slightly disoriented and very stiff from sleeping on one of the sofas facing the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. She sat still for a moment, taking in the comforting surroundings of the familiar room. The light streaming through the windows had an early morning feel to it, and she briefly wondered why she was here on the sofa instead of downstairs in her suite.

A snore made her look down. She smiled when she saw Harry's head resting in her lap. _Harry, love, I'm so glad you're back safely,_ she thought. She had been so worried when she had found his note, and more than a little angry that he had left her behind. But she now realized that if she had been with Harry, Ron and Hermione, she couldn't have alerted Madam Pomfrey or relayed Harry's message to Professor Dumbledore. The knowledge that she had taken part in this expedition after all made her much happier. Still, the anxiety of the day before lingered in the muscles of her shoulders and neck. She stretched as well as possible without disturbing Harry and lay back on the cushions.

**oOo**

She had awakened much later than she usually did at the Burrow and had taken her time getting ready for the day; although she was eager to see Harry, her luxurious room made her feel as if she had been transported back to the room she had shared with her mum on their trip to Egypt several summers ago and she wanted to enjoy her suite as much as possible. By the time she'd found Harry's note, he and Ron and Hermione had already been gone for hours.

Grabbing her book bag, she had sought out Neville in his greenhouse for company. He had been sympathetic to her extended rant about being left behind because she was too young and had shared his own feelings concerning their situation. Once she had calmed down, though, he had been eager to show her some new Stinksap experiments he had just started. She had marvelled over Neville's complimentary copy of _The Healers' Journal_ and then asked to see the process he used to separate the sap. He had obligingly boiled down and decanted a small sample of the stuff into three separate containers for her.

As they waited for the Stinksap to separate, Neville had puttered amongst his plants, talking at length about what he hoped to find with his research. Ginny followed him round the greenhouse and discovered she was very interested in his growing techniques. She even pitched in when he asked her to help transplant some seedlings. The three hours they spent together had been a pleasant and revealing way to pass the morning: she could now appreciate just how complex Neville's research actually was and how it had helped her recover from her accident.

At lunch, which she and Neville had shared with Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey, there was no news from Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"How long have they been gone?" Neville asked.

"Harry was planning to leave about five this morning," Professor Dumbledore responded casually.

Ginny glanced at Neville with a raised eyebrow; they should have heard something by now, shouldn't they? Harry, Ron and Hermione had been gone nearly eight hours!

"When do you expect them back?" she asked.

The headmaster looked troubled. "I do not know when they will be back, Miss Weasley," he said quietly. "They have gone to a very remote part of the castle which makes communication impossible."

"Just how remote is 'remote'?" Neville asked.

"That, I am afraid, is something I am not willing to disclose at the moment," Professor Dumbledore told him pointedly.

"So you're telling us that if they run into trouble, there is no way for us to know about it? No way for us to send back-up?" Ginny asked incredulously, laying down her fork and pushing away from the table.

"You are correct."

"Then excuse me, Professor. I am no longer hungry. Thank you for your hospitality," Ginny said stiffly as anger at Professor Dumbledore's attitude threatened to overwhelm her. She rose from her seat and, picking up her book-bag, hurried out the doors of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom where she found the entrance tunnel to the Chamber of Secrets open, as she had suspected.

Waiting in the chilly, damp bathroom had not been fun. Myrtle had been very vocal throughout the afternoon and had cried copious tears when Ginny had irritably told her to shut it because the Transfiguration essay she was attempting to write was not going well. At that point, Neville had stuck his head in the door and told her that he would be sitting outside in the corridor if Ginny wanted to wait where it was less damp. That made her smile and she had gathered up her things, glad of Neville's company.

The two had sat quietly together, leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door. For the longest time, their companionable silence was broken only by the scratching of their quills as Neville worked on his research notes and Ginny completed her essay.

Dobby appeared with a plate of sandwiches and a flask of pumpkin juice at dinner time. "Professor Dumbledore wants Harry Potter's friends to eat, so Dobby brings you this," he told them before he disappeared with a _pop!_

Ginny and Neville had eaten little of the food and when Dobby reappeared sometime towards midnight to collect the dishes, he had scolded them.

"I'm sorry, Dobby," Ginny had said, "Neville and I aren't very hungry tonight. Thank you for the sandwiches."

Dobby had been worried. "Is Harry Potter not yet back?" he queried.

"We hope they will be soon," Ginny said bracingly. "They've just found what they are searching for."

Neville raised an eyebrow. "How? Your connection?"

Ginny nodded. Dobby looked relieved and shortly after he left, Harry had contacted her again.

**oOo**

Harry turned over in his sleep, stirring Ginny from her reverie. His hand caressed her knee and she began running her fingers through his hair. Eventually, his eyes fluttered open and he groaned at the brightness of the morning.

"Good morning, Harry," Ginny said, smiling at his dazed expression. "How are you?"

"I'm doing okay," he mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his shoulder. "How long did I sleep?"

Ginny looked at her watch. "Two and a half hours, maybe three."

Harry let his head flop dramatically onto the back of the sofa. "Not enough," he said, stifling a huge yawn. "Have you seen Ron or Hermione?"

"No, not yet, but I'm expecting Ron to come looking for me any minute. We're leaving this afternoon, and Mum was going to send Pig with a note telling us when she and Dad expect us home."

Harry raised his head, looking more awake. "Blimey, Ginny, I'd forgotten," he said apologetically. "We don't have very much time together, then."

Ginny smiled and reached for his hand. "That's OK, Harry. I'll take whatever time I have with you."

"Let's have a quick breakfast and then take a stroll around the lake," he suggested, looking at her hopefully.

"Great idea," Ginny replied. "I'll go down and see if that owl has come. I'll be right back." As she left, she heard Harry calling Kreacher.

Ron's hair was badly mussed when Ginny knocked on his portrait two minutes later. "Pig just got here," he said, thrusting their mother's note at her. "I haven't opened it yet."

Ginny tore open the envelope and scanned the note quickly. "Mum says we can stay until six o'clock," she reported happily. She grinned as she told Ron, "We'll be home in time for dinner."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron mumbled, yawning. "I'm going back to bed."

Ginny didn't wait for him to close the portrait. Instead, she turned and sprinted back through her own suite to the spiral stair case that connected her room with the Gryffindor common room. She arrived just as Kreacher and Dobby were laying one of the tables for two with an assortment of pastries and a pot of strong-smelling coffee. She smiled happily when she spotted a pitcher of juice and poured herself a glass.

"You, too?" she asked Harry, pointing to the pot. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Ron's addicted to that stuff."

Harry grinned and poured himself a cup. "It's not bad once you get used to it," he said, taking a sip. "My Uncle Vernon drinks it by the litre."

"Eww. Not for me." Ginny selected a pastry and bit into it, enjoying how the warm strawberry preserves filled her mouth with sweetness. She jumped as Harry planted a sticky kiss on her neck from behind. "Cut that out, Harry! I'll have to wash again!" she giggled.

"Hurry up, then. I've sent Hedwig to Hermione telling her these are up here," he said, edging towards the portrait hole. "And if we don't leave now, she and Ron will come up and we'll never get time to ourselves."

Ginny finished the last bite of her pastry, grabbed two more and then followed Harry out of the portrait hole. Hand in hand, they walked down to the lake talking about what they had been doing since the tea at Mrs Figg's. As they munched on their pastries, Harry reported the results of his check up with Madam Pomfrey and his decision to go through with the surgery to reduce the size of the scar on his shoulder.

"It's a little sore from yesterday," he admitted, "but Madam Pomfrey was right to push me to go through with it. I had no problems moving my arm at all yesterday."

Ginny squeezed his hand. "I could make the soreness go away if you'd like," she said.

"Maybe in a little while," he said, looking suddenly bashful. "I, erm, I don't want to let go of your hand."

They stopped half-way around the lake and took turns skipping stones on the placid water at the giant squid who seemed to like batting the stones back at them. When they tired of this, Harry found them a seat under a tree and told her about his race with Dumbledore and how wonderful it felt to spend time with him one on one, without an agenda of any sort.

Ginny found Harry's eyes and gazed into them saying, "It's almost as if you two were spending time like grandfather and grandson."

Harry looked away, his face an emotional mask. "Yeah, Ginny, something like that," he said softly. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

Ginny changed the subject and told him about spending the previous day with Neville.

When she finished, Harry pushed himself away from the tree and began walking back towards the castle. Mystified by his suddenly negative behaviour, Ginny ran to catch up with him.

"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked.

Harry kept on walking. He wouldn't look at her as he said heatedly, "I'm sorry we had to leave you behind yesterday, but I thought it was the best thing to do."

"I don't understand."

Harry quickened his pace, his frustration lengthening his stride. "We were going to the Chamber of Secrets_,_ Ginny! Do you know how hard it was for me to go down there again? If I had trouble facing the memories, I know it would have been even harder for you!"

"Well, sitting in that bathroom was no picnic, believe me," she retorted. "Moaning Myrtle thought I was there to entertain her. She didn't understand how worried I was for you three."

"Fine, I apologize for making you wait for me somewhere you didn't want to be," he said tightly, stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets, "but what we were doing was hard physical work. We scrambled over and climbed rocks, we rappelled up and down ropes, we ran from danger! It was exhausting, Ginny. I don't know how Hermione kept up and she's in good physical form…" Harry trailed off, shaking his head.

So that's what this was all about: Harry was feeling guilty for leaving her behind because he thought she wasn't strong enough yet physically or that her mental health, as far as the Chamber of Secrets was concerned, was in question. _Well,_ she fumed silently, _he needed to rethink his reasons for leaving her behind._

"I don't care about how physically exhausting it was, I know I could have done it, I could have kept up. And as for the memories from my first year, it would have been good for me to face my nightmares head-on," she told him. Harry just glanced at her quickly. "Harry, listen to me. I waited in that bathroom because I wanted to," she said, willing him to understand.

Harry had slowed his pace abruptly to nearly a stroll while she was speaking. Now that she wasn't running to keep up with him, Ginny could see how tense the muscles in his jaw had become. Encouraged by the change in his reaction, she continued, "I went there because I was angry at what Professor Dumbledore said at lunch. When Neville and I asked him about how long you'd been gone, he didn't seem overly concerned about how long it was taking you. He even told us there wasn't any way to communicate with you."

When she finished he asked, "He actually told you we couldn't get messages up to the surface?"

"Yes, he did. He seemed almost resigned about it… like he'd sentenced the three of you to something horrible. Thinking back on the conversation, I think he wanted to tell us more, but decided not to." At this, Harry's demeanour changed almost instantly, leaving him looking slightly deflated. Ginny paused, thinking hard. Finally, she asked, "What you did yesterday has something to do with Voldemort, doesn't it?"

Harry nodded slightly. He pulled a hand out of his pocket and reached for the nearest one of hers. When she looked up at him, he said wistfully, "Yeah, it does and I really wish I could tell you more than I have about what we did yesterday, Ginny, but Dumbledore swore me to secrecy about what we're doing. I don't want to break his trust."

Ginny stopped walking and turned to face Harry. "It's OK, really. I think I understand now why you left me behind yesterday," she said, reaching up to caress his cheek. "What you're doing is important. Otherwise Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have asked you to do it. I know I asked this last night, but will you give me a little more advance notice of your next expedition, if you can? I felt very left out when I found your note yesterday morning."

Harry put his hand over hers. "I'll try, Ginny. I promise."

"Thank you, Harry. I won't worry quite so much if I don't wake up to find you gone like I did yesterday," she said. She stood on tiptoe and gently kissed his other cheek.

"I'm sorry I worried you," he murmured into her hair and it was several minutes before they resumed their stroll around the lake.

"Have you heard from Dudley?" Ginny asked as they entered a secluded cove. Water lapped gently on the rocky shore and the surrounding rocks made it the ideal place for a snog, she thought.

"Not this week, although he did send me a second note as soon as I wrote back the first time," Harry remarked, shaking his head. He chuckled as he added, "I think his minders have managed to convince him that it's best if they pass his letters along instead of him trying to find his own owl."

"That's funny," Ginny snorted. She sobered almost immediately. "Do you think he's making a genuine effort towards establishing a friendship with you or is he more looking out for himself?"

Harry shrugged. "At this point, I don't know, Ginny. I really don't know."

They walked in silence until they completed their circuit of the lake and the path veered away from the water, climbing the hill back up to the castle's front doors. Ginny was enjoying holding Harry's hand so much that she suggested they circle the perimeter of the Quidditch stadium. The sun climbed higher and higher as they walked and, towards noon, Ginny noticed that Harry's steps were slowing.

"Shall we find a place to sit?" she asked, indicating one of the paths leading under the bleachers into the stadium.

"That sounds good," Harry agreed and soon they were sitting on one of the huge cross beams that supported the stands.

Harry reached over and drew her closer to him, planting a tender kiss on her cheek. "I think we fell asleep mid-kiss, this morning," he whispered in her ear. "Do you feel cheated?"

"Not in the least, Harry, as long as we can continue where we left off," Ginny told him coyly.

Very swiftly, he closed the gap between their lips and captured hers in a soft kiss that almost immediately deepened. Ginny reacted the only way she could: her arms snaked around his neck and one hand found its way into his hair. All the worry from the day before transformed into a passion she rarely let herself show him. Its intensity was such that if it scared her, she knew it might scare Harry as well.

However, Harry didn't seem to notice; the little noises he made at the back of his throat told her he was enjoying this kiss just as much as she was. When they at last pulled apart, they sat somewhat dazed for a few seconds before either of them said anything.

"That was—" Ginny began.

"—amazing!" Harry finished for her. "I guess I'll have to go away more often!" he remarked, smirking.

"Don't you dare!" Ginny exclaimed, playfully swatting his arm. She climbed over the beam and leaned over Harry's shoulder. "Which shoulder did you say was sore earlier?"

Harry pointed to his left shoulder and Ginny began massaging it gently. She liked the feel of his muscles under her fingers and the way they responded to the pressure she was applying. Harry seemed to like her ministrations, too, for he leaned towards her a little and bowed his head slightly to allow her access to his neck. His other shoulder responded just as his left one had done; when she finished Harry looked very relaxed and content.

Harry scooted over and leaned against one of the posts supporting the stands. "Thank you, Ginny. I feel much better," he said, pulling her onto his lap. Another kiss followed, this one gentle and lingering, but nonetheless as breath-taking as their first. Eventually they pulled apart and Ginny snuggled into the crook of Harry's arms, her head resting on his shoulder. They sat like this for a long time until Harry's stomach gave a particularly loud rumble.

Ginny giggled at Harry who looked somewhat sheepish as his stomach growled again. "That time already?" He glanced at his watch. "Er... do you think we could go to the kitchens for some lunch?"

"Sure, Harry," Ginny said, getting up. "Do you want to try to find Ron and Hermione or should we just eat alone?"

"They're probably up to the same thing we were," Harry said with a smirk as they emerged from their hiding place and turned towards the castle. "Ron said something last night about wanting to be with Hermione most of the day."

"I take it he wants to make sure she's all right after breaking her wrist yesterday," Ginny said, grinning.

"Something like that," Harry said. His eyes, and Ginny's, turned upwards to find Gryffindor Tower and Ginny couldn't help wondering whether Ron had finally gotten around to kissing Hermione.

The house-elves greeted them enthusiastically and soon had a small feast set up at the end of one of the long tables in the kitchen. Ginny and Harry sat side by side as they often did during term with their knees touching and their elbows gently bumping as they ate.

Half way through the meal, Ginny asked, "What do you have planned for the afternoon?"

Harry put down his fork and fidgeted with his napkin. "Would it be horrible of me to ask if I could do my usual afternoon workout in the P-T Room?"

Ginny shook her head. "Not at all. I didn't do my exercises either, today, Harry. I'd like to join you."

"Good. I was hoping you'd say that," Harry said, reaching for his water goblet.

When they were done, they thanked the elves and climbed the marble staircase to the second floor, heading for the hospital wing and the P-T Room.

"I'm too tired to do a complete workout," Harry said as they turned the corner into the hospital wing corridor, "but I need to..." He stopped, his eyes wide.

Someone was lying face down on the cold stone floor of the corridor.

"Oh no! PROFESSOR!"

**End of Chapter Eleven**


	12. 12 Worry

**Chapter 12: Worry**

"Professor Dumbledore!" Ginny cried as Harry sprinted up the corridor to the prone figure lying on the cool stone floor. She reached them seconds later. "Harry, is he... is he?"

Harry had turned the headmaster onto his back and was listening to the old man's chest. "He's still breathing and his heart is beating," he said in a strangled voice. "Quick, go get Madam Pomfrey."

Ginny hastened to the infirmary. "Madam Pomfrey, come quickly! Professor Dumbledore has collapsed," she called, barging into the empty room.

Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office, ladle in hand. "Where is he?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"In the corridor. I think he was trying to get here. Harry's with him now," Ginny explained hurriedly.

Madam Pomfrey thrust the ladle into Ginny's hand. "Thank you, Ginny," she said, heading for the door. "Would you extinguish the fire under my cauldron, please?"

Ginny emerged from Madam Pomfrey's office just in time to hold open the door to admit Harry and Madam Pomfrey, who was floating the headmaster in front of her. She deposited him on the nearest bed and immediately drew the curtains.

With nothing more to do, Ginny and Harry clung together in the waiting area, uncertain whether to leave or stay. As the minutes ticked by and Madam Pomfrey stayed behind the curtain, they found chairs in the waiting area and sat in silence, watching the minute hand on the clock over the door move slowly around the face. It became increasingly apparent that this was a very grave situation.

Finally, Madam Pomfrey emerged from behind the curtains, a very worried expression on her face. Ginny and Harry stood up as she approached them.

Harry spoke first. "What's wrong with him, Madam Pomfrey?" he asked, his concern for Dumbledore apparent in his tone.

Ginny bit her lip as Madam Pomfrey answered. "I don't know yet, Harry. I've stabilized him for the time being and need to call in a consultant. Will you please excuse me?" As Harry bowed his head and murmured his thanks, she strode into her office, shutting the door.

He raised his head. "Oh, God, Ginny. I think he's been cursed," he whispered.

Alarmed, Ginny wrapped her arms round Harry's waist and hugged him to her. "How do you know?" she asked.

"I can feel it in my gut," he said tightly. "When Ron, Hermione and I were talking to him the other night about yesterday's adventure, Dumbledore taught us some specific revealing spells to test for Dark curses. It was almost as if he was speaking from experience because the spells were very, very difficult to get right..." He trailed off and was silent for several seconds. "He wouldn't let us go to bed until he was positive we knew the spells."

"He's a good teacher, Harry. If he was cursed, he was right to teach you how to protect yourselves," Ginny said, trying her best to comfort him. She tugged on his hand and he followed her docilely back to their chairs. "All we can do right now is wait." She smiled at him. "And this time, you're not waiting _for_ me, you're waiting _with_ me."

Harry smiled wanly back at her and they settled down to wait again.

They didn't wait long, though. Only five minutes time passed before the door to Madam Pomfrey's office opened and she came out, followed by Professor Snape. Ginny felt Harry inhale sharply and looked up to find him scowling at the Potion Master's back as he strode behind the curtains around Dumbledore's bed.

"What's he doing here?" Harry hissed.

Cautiously, Ginny answered, "He must know something about identifying and getting rid of Dark curses."

Further conversation was curtailed when Snape called over the curtains, "Potter, get over here. I need to question you."

Harry and Ginny exchanged alarmed glances before they hurried over to Professor Dumbledore's bed. They stood at the foot, waiting quietly. Ginny sucked in her breath at the sight that met them. Dumbledore's face was the colour of wax, and his laboured breathing filled her ears.

Snape was standing at Professor Dumbledore's side, his wand flashing as he cast spells in rapid succession. Next to him, Madam Pomfrey held a clipboard and quill, scribbling notes furiously. At length, the adults looked up, their faces grave.

"Potter, the headmaster has most likely been cursed by something he has worn recently," Snape said in clipped tones. "You've been with him lately. Do you know of anything new he has worn and taken off?"

"He wore... a Muggle business suit the day he came to get me," Harry said.

"The headmaster would have known whether his own clothes were cursed, Potter," Snape snapped.

"What about hats or cloaks, professor?" Ginny suggested. "Someone sent Bill a cursed cap once."

Snape shook his head. "Still apparel, Miss Weasley."

Ginny turned to Harry. "What about a bracelet or a necklace? Charlie sometimes wears an identification bracelet a girl gave him when they were going out in their seventh year."

"He doesn't wear that sort of stuff," Harry said quickly.

"How recently was Professor Dumbledore cursed?" Ginny asked, thinking about how long it had taken the diary to truly possess her back in first year.

"Within the last six weeks," Snape said tersely.

Harry turned his back and leaned against the footboard of the bead. Ginny reached for him, but he shook her hand away. "What do you know about the curse?" he asked without turning back.

Snape's answer was not a welcome one. "The curse seems to be slow-acting. In all probability, it will gradually rob the victim of his or her strength, it might paralyze or cause great pain, and most likely it will leave the mind alone, the better for the victim to be aware of his or her plight."

Harry had closed his eyes and was biting his lip. With a monumental sigh he looked at Ginny, his expression bleak. "He knew that day," he whispered. To Madam Pomfrey and Snape he asked, "Is the curse terminal?"

Madam Pomfrey answered, "Yes, Harry, it's terminal."

"How long?" Harry asked bleakly, turning to face the adults again.

"If I knew when Professor Dumbledore came in contact with the curse, I could tell you, Potter," Snape snapped. "Now, do you recall anything unusual that the headmaster has worn in the last few weeks that he normally has not?"

Harry bowed his head, pushed his glasses up on his forehead and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Ginny's heart went out to Harry as she stood beside him, unable to help in any way.

Suddenly, Harry's head snapped up. "The ring!" he exclaimed.

"What ring?" Snape, Madam Pomfrey and Ginny asked.

"Professor Dumbledore was wearing a ring the day he came to get me, but he hasn't worn it since!" Harry explained.

Snape barked, "On which hand was he wearing it?"

"His left."

Snape grabbed Professor Dumbledore's left hand and examined the fingers, eventually pointing to a raw, pink circlet of skin ringing the fourth finger. "Very good, Potter, you've solved our little mystery," he said without looking up. To Madam Pomfrey he said, "This will be the only mark left by the curse, I am sure."

"Can you cure him, professor?" Ginny asked, hoping against hope that a cure could be found.

"Don't you know the meaning of the word 'terminal'?" Snape hissed. "The headmaster has only months to live if I'm right about the nature of this curse, so no, I cannot cure him!"

Cowed into silence, Ginny turned to Harry who let her put an arm around his waist. "Will he wake?" he asked.

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "I don't know, Harry. Let's go to my office and talk some more about that ring. I don't think we'll need it, but anything you can tell me about it will help." She led the way past the curtains as Snape began waving his wand over the headmaster again and stopped as the door to the hospital wing opened.

Neville poked his head inside. "There you are, Harry. I thought we were meeting for our workout," he said cheerfully.

Ginny stepped away from Harry. "I'll tell him, Harry. You go with Madam Pomfrey," she said. He nodded and walked into the office, shutting the door behind him.

Neville opened the door fully and stepped inside the infirmary. He asked, "Have I interrupted something?"

"Harry and I found Professor Dumbledore lying in the corridor about an hour ago," Ginny said, taking Neville's arm and steering him back out into the hallway.

"Is he ill?" Neville asked.

"Very," Ginny told him sadly. "Both Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey are trying to make him better, but it doesn't look good."

"What can we do?"

"Nothing right now until Snape determines whether or not he can revive Professor Dumbledore," Ginny said, fighting the tears that threatened to spill over. "All we can do is wait."

"And worry," Neville murmured. He leaned against the wall and gradually slid down onto the floor, just as he had done the previous evening. "I'm not leaving until we know something."

Ginny smiled at Neville's determination and sat next to him. "I hope we know soon because Ron and I have to leave at six o'clock," she said.

A tense silence fell over the corridor. Ginny longed to be inside with Harry, but resigned herself to the fact that she would only be in the way. She knew very little of the mission Dumbledore had entrusted to Harry. Not for the first time, she cursed silently at being kept in the dark.

As she contemplated the recent turn of events, a spark of resolve began to grow within her. She was going to find out exactly what Harry, Ron and Hermione were up to and do everything she could to help them. Harry was going to need all the help he could get, especially if Dumbledore wasn't going to be around. She didn't care what Dumbledore's reasons were for being so secretive. She silently vowed that whatever Harry faced, she would be right by his side.

Harry joined them a few minutes later. His face had a pinched look to it as he flopped down on the floor facing Ginny. She scooted towards him until their knees bumped and then reached for his hand.

"Is there any way we can help?" she asked, running her thumb over the back of his hand.

"Not yet," he replied. "Snape was still casting spells when I left, although Madam Pomfrey thinks it's going to take a potion to bring about any change."

Neville reached over and squeezed Harry's shoulder. "No matter what happens," he said bracingly, "you got Professor Dumbledore the help he was trying to get for himself."

"I don't know how much good it'll do, though," Harry muttered bleakly as Ron and Hermione appeared at the far end of the corridor.

"What's going on?" Ron asked as he and Hermione joined them.

Together Ginny and Harry filled them in on Dumbledore's condition; as the story unfolded, Ginny could see the gears turning in Hermione's brain. She wasn't surprised when Hermione stood up and pushed open the infirmary door.

Harry scrambled after her, but Ron held him back. "Let her go, mate," he said. "She may have thought of something that might help."

Ron was right. Hermione appeared at the door almost immediately. "Ginny, come quickly. Madam Pomfrey needs our help. Professor Snape wants to make a potion for Professor Dumbledore that takes specialized preparation of several ingredients and Madam Pomfrey suggested we help."

Ginny jumped up and was half-way to the door when she realized that they were leaving Harry, Ron and Neville sitting in the corridor. "Do you think they could help, too?" she asked.

Hermione nodded. "Harry, Ron, Neville," she called, "Grab some chairs and go sit with Professor Dumbledore while we get the potion ready."

Harry mumbled, "Thanks, Ginny," as he hurried past, grabbing a chair from the waiting area and disappearing behind the curtains surrounding Dumbledore's bed.

Ginny followed Hermione into Madam Pomfrey's office. The preparation area had been cleared off and the potion Ginny had tended earlier pushed aside. "Ginny, please fill and label these bottles with this Pepper-Up Potion. Make sure the date is clearly visible. This batch may not be as potent as it should be, but it's perfectly good for minor ailments. I don't want to waste it," Madam Pomfrey said briskly as she began pulling bottles and jars of ingredients from various cabinets.

Ginny set to work as Madam Pomfrey enlisted Hermione's help in macerating dried herbs for the new potion. The three witches worked quietly, with only the clink of their utensils breaking the silence, until Professor Snape entered the office and strode over to the fireplace without acknowledging anyone. His face was a study in concentration as he lit the logs in the grate and began adding ingredients to a small cauldron which hung over the fire. In no time, the room was uncomfortably warm. Ginny held her breath against the obnoxious smell.

She had just finished her task when Snape barked, "I need powdered viper scales now!"

Madam Pomfrey look flustered as she frantically searched the cabinet. "I'm all out, Severus," she said. "I was going to order some next month."

"You'll just have to go into Hogsmeade, then, and see if the apothecary has some, won't you?" Snape snapped. "I can't leave this now."

Hermione edged close to Madam Pomfrey and whispered something in her ear, causing her to smile and relax a bit. She in turn quietly spoke to Snape who nodded, then asked Ginny and Hermione to leave the room. When they were admitted again several minutes later, Madam Pomfrey handed Hermione and Ginny scrapers and led them to her desk. Two large squares of lime green snake skin lay on the wooden surface. _Dried Basilisk skin_ flitted through Ginny's mind as she remembered seeing the dead reptile sprawled on the Chamber floor.

Ginny stared down at the square of skin that lay in front of her, listening carefully to Madam Pomfrey's instructions to scrape the huge green scales like she would scale a fish. "This isn't going to work," she whispered to Hermione as soon as Madam Pomfrey turned her back. "The scales are part of the skin."

"You're right, but we have to try anyway," Hermione said as she inserted her scraper under a scale and pushed against it. The skin tore where the scraper touched it and she stepped away from her square. She dug into the pocket of her jeans and came up with a silver knife. "Here, use my knife to cut a small square into slivers, then see if it crumbles."

Ginny unfolded the knife and did as Hermione suggested, cutting a tiny square from the corner of her skin and slicing it thinly. Each new sliver almost immediately disintegrated into a fine powder. She glanced over at Hermione whose efforts to shred her skin worked no better than the scraper.

"How come you carry a knife?" Ginny asked quietly.

"It's a Muggle thing I picked up from my parents. They both carry one."

Professor Snape's voice cut through their conversation. "Well, why don't I hear you two scraping?"

"We can't, professor," Ginny said. She scooped up some of the powder her cuttings had produced as well as a few ragged pieces of skin from Hermione's pile and took them over to the fireplace. Holding out the two samples she said, "We've tried both shredding and slicing and the best form seems to be the sliced because it turns to powder as soon as it's cut."

For the first time ever, Professor Snape didn't sneer. "Very well, powder it. It's a magical substance anyway and I'll need to be careful how it's added to this potion. Carry on."

"How much will you need?" Ginny asked.

"Not much more than what you have there," he said, looking sour again. He gave her a small bowl. "Fill it."

Ginny took the bowl back to the table and carefully filled it with powdered Basilisk skin. She then took it back to Professor Snape whose only reaction was a curt nod. On her way back to the table, she asked Madam Pomfrey what she wanted done with the rest of the skin.

Looking at Hermione's large pile of shreds she said, "Finish powdering what you've shredded and leave it at that. Then weigh the powder and put it in this canister. Make sure you label it clearly with name, date and weight." She set a large crockery canister on the desk and took away what was left of the two skins. Turning to Hermione she asked, "Do you need another silver knife? You may go when you're done. Thank you for your help."

Hermione took the proffered knife and she and Ginny finished powdering the Basilisk skin, filling the canister and labelling it. They washed their knives and the desk and left as quietly as they could: Professor Snape was scowling at his cauldron and concentrating on stirring and they didn't want to disturb him.

"Am I right in thinking that the Basilisk skin reacted differently to the silver knives than they did to our scrapers?" Ginny asked as soon as the door closed.

"Yes," Hermione said, grinning. "That skin is from a magical creature so it's more likely to react differently." She sobered as they approached the curtains around Professor Dumbledore's bed.

The boys were all sitting on one side of the bed. Harry was sitting closest to it, holding one of Dumbledore's hands. "No change," he muttered sadly as Ron and Neville found chairs for Ginny and Hermione. Ginny smiled when Neville put hers next to Harry's, but instead of sitting in it she walked behind Harry and placed her hands on his shoulders. She began slowly kneading the muscles of his neck, struggling to work on the tension that gripped them. Harry murmured his thanks and relaxed a little under her attention.

Several minutes later, the curtains parted and Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape stepped in, moving quickly to the head of Dumbledore's bed. They each held a cup of potion and a spoon.

"May we stay?" Harry asked, not letting go of the professor's hand.

"As you wish, Potter," Snape grumbled. "Just stay out of the way."

Ginny leaned over and whispered in Harry's ear, "I hope this works."

"Me, too."

Ginny sat down as Madam Pomfrey propped Professor Dumbledore against some pillows and dribbled a little of her potion into his mouth with her spoon. Nothing happened, so she gave him a little more. Then they waited.

Suddenly, Harry gasped. "He's squeezing my hand!" he cried softly.

Encouraged by this news, Madam Pomfrey continued spooning the potion slowly into the headmaster's mouth, helping him to swallow when he seemed to have difficulty. Little by little his colour improved and his eyes began moving beneath his lids. Finally, when nearly all the potion had been administered, he opened his eyes, wheezed, "Thank you," and closed them again. Madam Pomfrey whipped out her wand and began casting spells. With each one her smile broadened.

"He's sleeping," she said finally and everyone relaxed. "He will recover."

An hour later, Professor Dumbledore opened his eyes to find everyone, including the two adults, still sitting at his side. Both Ginny and Hermione were crying silently and when Ginny glanced at Harry, a single tear had escaped from his right eye. He swiped at it roughly and cleared his throat. "Welcome back, Professor," he murmured.

Dumbledore's eyes searched the faces around him, finally locking on Professor Snape's. "Thank you, Severus. We shall talk later. I promise," he said. With a small nod, Snape turned and left.

"How are you feeling, Headmaster?" Madam Pomfrey asked. "Do you require anything?"

"A little water, perhaps. I am very thirsty," he said. He allowed Madam Pomfrey to help him drink, then turned to Harry, who had still not let go of his hand. "Harry, why the worried face? I am in the best of care here. You should know that."

"I do know it, Professor," Harry said quietly, finally relinquishing his hold on Dumbledore's hand.

"You scared us so badly, sir," Ginny said. "We were afraid we had found you too late..." She trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.

"You found me? Where?" Professor Dumbledore looked genuinely alarmed.

Harry and Ginny told their story again and when they finished Dumbledore said, "I am so sorry to put you through this. Is that why you all are here?"

Ginny, Harry, Ron, Neville and Hermione all said, "Yes," to which Dumbledore responded, "I sincerely thank you for helping me. I am afraid I was not very good company."

"It doesn't matter, professor," Neville said. "What matters is that you're back with us."

"Hogwarts wouldn't be the same without you," Ron murmured, his ears turning pink.

"Hogwarts will go on long after I have gone on to my next great adventure, Mr Weasley," Dumbledore said with a small smile.

No one spoke for a moment. Then Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat. "The headmaster needs his rest. I imagine you five have other things you'd rather be doing."

Professor Dumbledore smiled, then asked, "Miss Weasley, Mr Weasley, when do you depart for home? It is nice to have you with me, but your parents are expecting you, I am sure."

Ginny exchanged startled looks with Ron. In all the excitement they had forgotten about going home. "We better go pack, Ginny," Ron said.

"Thank you, Professor," Ginny said, feeling embarrassment warming her cheeks. She turned to Harry. "You'll be all right, too?"

Harry smiled at her. "Thanks for keeping me company," he said, looking around at Ginny, Ron, Neville, and Hermione. "I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall in half an hour."

Reluctantly, Ginny stood and followed the others out of the hospital wing.

A few flicks of her wand were all it took to make Ginny's things sail into her bags. She stood at her window looking out over the Forbidden Forest and thinking of all that had happened during the last few days. She didn't want to go home, but at the same time, she was curious to find out how her parents' dinner with Bill and Fleur had gone.

Someone knocked on her portrait, causing her to look at her watch. Time to go. With one last look around the elegant suite, Ginny gathered her things and went to the door. Ron and Hermione were waiting for her and together the three descended the stairs to the Entrance Hall where Harry was waiting with Hagrid. He walked them to the gates and stopped.

"This is as far as I'm going," Harry said. "I want to stay with Dumbledore."

Ron stuck out his hand and they shook. "Don't be a stranger, Harry," he said. "You're coming to The Burrow in a couple of weeks, yeah?"

Harry grinned. "I'll send Hedwig with a note telling you when I'm coming."

Ron returned the smile. "We'll be looking for her," he said, glancing at Ginny.

Harry gave Hermione a quick hug, then turned and embraced Ginny. They clung to each other, not wanting to let go. Harry suddenly pulled back, an expression of anguish on his face. "I should have known…," he began.

Ginny immediately cut him off. "How could you?" she retorted. "Professor Dumbledore is the world's greatest secret keeper. He never lets anyone see all of his plans. I think there's probably a lot of stuff he still hasn't told you that he should have. Don't blame yourself, Harry. Remember, this is all Voldemort's doing."

Harry stubbornly shook his head. "No, Gin. I should have guessed when he suddenly changed – the broom racing, drinks at the Three Broomsticks. It was the kind of stuff he's always wanted to do with somebody but either couldn't or wouldn't. Why—why didn't I ever try sooner to do something for him… to be a friend or try to find out about what he needed?"

Ginny took both of Harry's hands in her own and gazed fiercely at him. "Now you listen to me, Harry Potter," she hissed. "You're not going to fall into a depression over this. That won't help Professor Dumbledore, and it certainly won't help you beat Voldemort. You're going to have to be strong. You're going to have to push ahead, regardless of what happens. I'm here for you. Ron and Hermione are here for you, so is Neville, and so are a lot of other people. All of us love you, and will do whatever it takes to help you win this fight. Don't ever forget that. It's what's going to help you beat Tom in the end."

Harry hung his head, his forehead touching hers. He sighed deeply. "You're right, Ginny. Thanks," he murmured. "I needed that."

Hagrid cleared his throat. Ginny stepped away reluctantly and followed him and Hermione and Ron down the road towards the village.

As the gates closed, she heard Harry call, "Watch for Hedwig tonight, Ginny."

She turned back and answered, "I will." Then the road curved and the gates disappeared from sight.

**oOo**

Later that night, Hedwig appeared at Ginny's window bearing a letter in Harry's handwriting.

_Dear Ginny,_

_I don't know where to begin. The news about Dumbledore isn't good. I talked with Madam Pomfrey after you left and I wish you had been with me when she gave me her diagnosis. Dumbledore's curse is just as Snape described. Madam Pomfrey thinks he only has a few months left to live. _

_I wish I could hold you right now. I feel so lost and alone and very angry and scared and talking things out with Neville tonight just didn't feel nearly as comforting as they would have, had we been together. This is one of those times that holding you would give me strength to go on._

Ginny smiled through her tears at Harry's rambling confession. She read on.

_I stayed with Dumbledore until Madam Pomfrey threw me out of the hospital this evening. He and I talked a little. When he is stronger, we're going to meet in his rooms. He is hoping to stay alive long enough to teach me the rest of what I need to know to defeat Tom Riddle. I'm scared, Ginny. There is so much to do before I have to face him and I don't know if I'll live through our final battle, even with all this careful preparation._

_Think of me, Ginny, as you go to bed. I'll be thinking of you._

_Harry_

Ginny folded the letter and crawled into bed. Tomorrow she would break Harry's news to her family. It would definitely put a damper on her parents' good spirits, for they had loved Fleur on sight. And even though they were surprised that she and Bill were getting married in France at the end of August, they had opened their arms to her and accepted her into their family.

Ginny's thoughts drifted to Hogwarts and Harry.

_Are you there, Harry?_ she asked. _Hedwig brought your letter. _

Harry replied immediately. _I'm here, Ginny. She's a good owl, Hedwig._

_Yes, she is. Harry, I want to be there to hold you, too. It doesn't seem right that the one I love so much needs me and I can't be there to comfort him. Will you be all right?_

It felt as though Harry were smiling. _Yeah. I'll be all right now. Thanks for understanding._

_You're welcome, Harry. You know I'm only a thought away._

_I do know and that's what is helping me through this. I love you, Ginny._

_I love you, too, Harry. _

_Good night,_ they finished together.

**End of Chapter Twelve**

**A/N:** The mystery of my evil cliffie from last chapter has been solved; now you know who was lying on the hospital wing corridor floor. I've had some interesting guesses about who it might be and they have amused me to no end. I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long in suspense.

My usual round of heart-felt thank yous starts off with my pre-beta GhostWriter. He put a lot of thought into helping me with this chapter and was a real life-saver when I found myself hopelessly stuck somewhere between the middle and the end I'd already written. Thank you many times over for your help when I had no idea what to do with this chapter. And then there's my beta Aggiebell who, for some reason, was convinced that my victim was Professor McGonagall! I'm so glad I was able to leave you guessing. Thank you for your help in getting this chapter posted. I always love your comments.

So ends another chapter. I find myself loving the writing of Harry/Ginny good-night scenes and all the affection these two characters seem to have for each other. I hope you, my readers, like them as much as I do. If you liked how the chapter turned out, please take the time to let me know what you think. I appreciate your taking the time to drop me a line and I always write back.


	13. 13 A Day with Dumbledore

**Chapter 13: A Day with Dumbledore**

The rest of the week following Professor Dumbledore's collapse and subsequent recovery flew by in an orderly fashion. Harry met with the professor several times at his bedside in addition to his established lessons with Mrs Chang and Tonks. Kingsley Shacklebolt came one evening to work with Harry and Neville on what Harry laughingly called "sneakology tactics," which involved learning to cast spells and move extremely quietly in a variety of situations.

However, the appearance of Remus Lupin at lunch on Wednesday made Harry's week. The two spent several hours that afternoon not only working on Harry's Occlumency, but catching up on each other's lives and strolling through Hogsmeade, where they ended up at The Three Broomsticks. Over pints of butterbeer and a stack of Madam Rosmerta's delicious fried jalapenos, Remus regaled Harry with stories of his days as a Marauder; the two filled the half-empty pub with laughter that had the proprietor adding her own stories that made Harry's former professor go red in the ears.

As they were about to go their separate ways, Remus pulled a small package wrapped in red tissue paper out of his pocket and handed it, almost shyly, to Harry. "I'm giving this to you early because I won't be at your birthday celebration at the Weasleys next Saturday," he said quietly. "I'm very sorry, Harry, but I must go down to London on business and won't be back until Monday night. I wanted you to have this."

"Thank you, Remus," Harry said, squeezing the package and trying to guess what was inside. It was stiff and rather lumpy. "I'll see you again sometime next week, then?"

"Yes, Harry. I'll send an owl to set up our next appointment." Remus paused, then asked, "Well, aren't you going to open it?"

Grinning, Harry tore at the wrapping. Inside was a worn leather, wallet-like case with a snap closure. At Remus' urging, Harry undid the catch and watched in fascination as it unfolded into a sewing kit three times its original size. Inside was a variety of thread spools, needles, pins, a tape measure, a thimble and two pairs of scissors.

Bewildered, Harry said, "This is nice, Remus, but I don't know how to use this stuff."

"Neither did I until your mother showed me what I needed to know about mending," Remus said. "You see, Harry, this was your mother's."

Harry reverently touched a few of the items in the kit. "My mother's?"

"Yes, Harry. She had loaned it to me, as she often did, the day before that last Halloween."

"Why?"

There was pride in Remus' voice as he said, "I have always done my own mending, but I could never afford a sewing kit such as this. Your mother was always willing to lend hers to me and I used it many times." Remus looked away over Harry's shoulder for a few moments. His voice, when he resumed his story, was thick with emotion. "She never ridiculed me for the poor condition of my clothes; in fact, she seemed proud that she could help me keep them nice." He stopped again, twisting his empty butterbeer glass between his hands. "I was going to return the kit when Sirius and I went to visit you that Halloween afternoon, but I forgot to bring it with me and never got the chance to return it to its rightful owner." He glanced at Harry.

Harry remained silent, needing to hear more.

"Whatever you mend with the supplies in this kit will be as good as or better than it was before the mending. You never need to buy thread or new needles because there is always enough for your projects and even if you drop them, the needles and pins will always find their way back to their proper places." Remus smiled at Harry. "It is time you have something that belonged to Lily," he said.

Harry blinked a few times. "Will you show me what my mum taught you?" he finally asked.

Remus grinned. "No, Harry, I think there are three very competent witches in your life who will be more than happy to help you learn to use Lily's sewing kit."

"Then I'll ask them," Harry said, thinking of Ginny.

The two parted shortly after that at the Hogwarts gates and Harry walked back to the castle deep in thought.

**oOo**

The morning of his seventeenth birthday, Harry awoke early. He had another meeting with Professor Dumbledore and dressed carefully for it. He made sure he had his wand and that his Invisibility Cloak was in the same small rucksack he'd taken with him into the Chamber of Secrets. After a quick breakfast, Harry grabbed his Firebolt and hastened to the headmaster's office, taking the spiral stairs two at a time in his eagerness to see the headmaster.

"Happy Birthday, Harry!" Dumbledore greeted him as he walked through the open door.

"Thanks, sir," Harry said, grinning. He was happy to see the professor looking much better than he had a week ago. "Are we going somewhere?" he asked, taking in Dumbledore's travelling attire. "You asked me to bring my broom."

"As a matter of fact, yes," Professor Dumbledore said, smiling. "We're going somewhere that is of interest to both of us." He paused, pulling a cardboard box from under his desk and opening the flaps. He pulled out a large, leather-bound book entitled _Magical History: Myth, Lie or Fact? _and handed it to Harry.

Dumbledore smiled at Harry. "This book is from my personal collection and I want you to have it."

_Hermione would love the title, _Harry thought with a smile as he took the ancient tome. He opened the front cover and he jumped as the pages turned themselves to a place marked with a wide red ribbon. He sucked in his breath as he read the chapter heading: "Godric's Hollow."

"This is where we are going today, Harry. Godric's Hollow holds a special significance to me that I want to share with you: my birthplace and yours," Dumbledore said.

Harry stared at Professor Dumbledore. "Are you sure you want to _give_ it to me?" he asked, finally understanding that Professor Dumbledore wanted to part with such a valuable book.

"Absolutely. I have memorized what is important to me and it is time that I pass it on. I know you will treat this book well." And before Harry could say anything more, he reached into the box again and pulled out another, much smaller, book.

Harry opened this one to find it blank. Momentarily, he was transported back to second year and his first encounter with Tom Riddle's diary. He looked questioningly at Dumbledore.

"Yes, Harry, this is a journal," Dumbledore said, giving Harry a Muggle ballpoint pen. "I thought you might like to have something in which to record the memories of your seventeenth birthday trip today." He gave Harry a few moments to examine the journal and then reached into the box for another item. "You also might like to use this."

Harry took the stiff leather case Dumbledore handed him. It was rather heavy and reminded Harry of the case which held Colin Creevey's camera and extra film. He opened it carefully and pulled out the camera within. Holding it reverently in front of him, he said, "I'll be very careful with this today, sir."

"I am sure you will, Harry, today and in the future. You see, I no longer need something as extravagant as this camera, for I have done all the travelling I expect to do." He smiled at Harry's raised eyebrow. "The camera was my brother Aberforth's gift to me on my seventeenth birthday—and now it is my gift to you. He knew I would be going on my grand tour after I left Hogwarts and wanted to give me a special gift for my trip. Sadly, I never went on that journey; life was not kind to me that year..." Professor Dumbledore trailed off, a far-away look in his blue eyes. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, "I am hopeful your seventeenth year will be much better than mine. You have your whole lifetime ahead of you and a Wizarding camera is an essential part of capturing the important days of your life. Let us spend a few minutes going over the camera so that you can use it today," Dumbledore said, coming to stand next to Harry.

"I'd like that," Harry said quietly. _There will be time to contemplate the reason for these wonderful gifts later_, he decided and turned his complete attention to Dumbledore's explanation of the camera's functions.

When they were done and Harry felt confident that he could operate the camera properly, Professor Dumbledore said, "There is one more thing you need to learn for our trip today. You have used a Disillusionment Spell before, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"The one I'm about to teach you can be used not only on your person, but on anything you wish to carry. May I have your broom, please?"

Harry handed his Firebolt to Professor Dumbledore who cast the spell. The broom immediately looked as if it were part of the chair it was sitting on. Dumbledore cancelled the spell and turned to Harry. "Now your turn," he said.

The spell was difficult, but Harry soon mastered it. Dobby popped into the office carrying two brown paper sacks just as Harry melted successfully into his surroundings. "Don't do that, Harry Potter!" squeaked the elf. He quickly recovered himself enough to say, "Your lunches, sirs."

Harry cancelled the spell. "Thank you, Dobby. I'm sorry to scare you like that."

"Dobby is all right, sir. Dobby wishes Harry Potter a very happy birthday," the elf said, bowing so low his nose touched the floor. Before Harry could respond, Dobby Disapparated, leaving the two wizards alone in the office. Harry put the books and camera into his rucksack. Professor Dumbledore smiled his approval.

"Shall we go, then?" Dumbledore asked, leading the way though a doorway concealed by one of the room's many bookcases.

"What's this, professor?" Harry enquired as they walked down a hallway to the door at the end.

Professor Dumbledore opened the door. It led onto a balcony high above the school. "My private quarters, Harry. You access this hallway through the back wall of my wardrobe in the room we met in earlier this week."

Harry sighed. "This castle never ceases to amaze me," he muttered as he joined Dumbledore on the balcony. The ancient Moontrimmer was already leaning against parapet

They Disillusioned themselves and their brooms as Dumbledore laid out their travel plans: they would fly to Glasgow, and then Side-Along-Apparate to Godric's Hollow. When Harry asked the reason for the broom flight, Dumbledore replied with a boyish smile, "This is too beautiful a day not to fly, but going any further south on the brooms would be an invitation to be seen." He mounted his broom, indicating that Harry should do the same. At Dumbledore's word, they pushed off into the clear, blue morning.

The flight to Glasgow was completely different from the frantic flight to Grimmauld Place Harry remembered from two years before. Even though he was Disillusioned as he had been that night, there was none of the palpable fear; he sensed caution and alertness in Professor Dumbledore, whose eyes and head were continually observing their surroundings, but Mad-eye Moody's paranoia was absent and Harry believed that Dumbledore was enjoying the flight as much as he was. They landed in a secluded glen on the outskirts of Glasgow and Professor Dumbledore asked him to put on the Invisibility Cloak, just as a precaution. Then, Harry took hold of Professor Dumbledore's arm and the two turned on the spot and disappeared almost as quietly as they had arrived.

Harry's feet met solid ground. He and Dumbledore were standing in a wood. To his left he could just make out the white paint and brown beams of a Tudor-style bungalow. To his right the woods ended in a high brick wall, much like the wall that surrounded Hogwarts.

"Welcome to my family home. My family calls it 'Gwenyn' for beehive," Dumbledore said, unlocking the door and standing aside for Harry to enter. "This is my retreat, the place I find nearest and dearest to my heart."

Harry couldn't stop staring as he followed Dumbledore out of the small foyer, down a short hall past doors to the kitchen, sitting room and dining room to what turned out to be the library. The room was large and square; bookshelves crammed with books lined three of the four walls. A large fireplace was directly across from the door and caught Harry's eye as soon as he walked in. To the right of the door, a massive wooden desk stood in front of large picture window that was covered by heavy dark red drapes. Directly across from the desk was a library table surrounded by ornately carved chairs.

Professor Dumbledore left the door open and flicked his wand at the drapes which opened with a swish and a cloud of dust. Harry fought back a sneeze.

"My apologies, Harry. I don't get here very often and no matter what I do, the dust accumulates between visits," Professor Dumbledore said with a shake of his head. He walked to the desk and pulled a large scroll from one of the drawers. "Let us take a look at this." He unfurled the scroll and stuck it to the library table with a charm.

Harry peered down at the map of Western England and found what he was looking for. His smile faltered though, when he discovered there were two villages with the same name. Puzzled, he asked, "How come there are two Godric's Hollows?"

"Do you remember your Wizarding history, Harry? Or did poor Professor Binns drone on so much that the history of this place became lost in a dreary list of dry facts?"

Harry looked at the floor as he mumbled, "I think I slept through the lecture, sir."

"No matter. Do you wish a more interesting answer to your question?"

"Yes, please," Harry said eagerly, gazing at the map again.

Professor Dumbledore pointed to the first of the dots labelled "Godric's Hollow." "There are two separate villages for one reason; Lord Voldemort. The first, and most historic, village was founded circa 832 A.D. It was a mixed village of wizards and Muggles, with the families intermingling for most activities. Then, with the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy of 1692, the Wizarding families were forced to segregate themselves and move to their own side of the village. All was peaceful until October of 1981 and the night of Voldemort's attack on your family." Dumbledore paused and looked searchingly into Harry's eyes. "I'm sorry to say, Harry, that the Muggles were scared so much that night by the explosion and the masked, hooded figures combing the area after that Halloween that they voted to move the village five miles upstream from the old church and graveyard."

"What happened to the wizarding community?" Harry asked.

"They stayed put. The feeling around here was that there needed to be protections put on the house and grounds and that they should never be left unguarded. To this day, there is always someone watching your family home. The position of Potter Memorial Guard is one of great honour in this village and pays a handsome salary to those who work in the guard house and maintain the memorials."

"Memorials?"

"Absolutely, Harry. Would you like to visit them today after you've had a chance to read more about your hometown and what has happened to it since 1981?" Harry nodded, unable to answer aloud. Professor Dumbledore smiled at him. "Good. I have a few things I need to attend to in another part of the house. If you will excuse me..."

Harry opened his rucksack and pulled out _Magical History: Myth, Lie or Fact? _as Professor Dumbledore closed the door on his way out. He sat in one of the ornate chairs, facing the map, and began to read. It was just as Dumbledore had related and finally Harry began to understand that history could be something other than a list of dry facts that needed to be memorized and regurgitated for an exam; what he was learning here was suddenly very personal.

The door opened and Dumbledore stuck his head around it. "Ready to go, Harry?" he asked. "We can leave the map and book here for the time being. I suggest we go to the village graveyard first. It is on the way to the Potter Memorial."

"Do you want me to wear my Invisibility Cloak?" Harry asked, getting up.

"Yes, please. The villagers are used to my occasional appearances, but I think you striding down the street with me might cause unwanted attention."

Harry agreed and soon they were strolling down the cobbled lane leading to the village square. As they neared the square, the lane widened and became more crowded with houses and eventually shops. Turning a final corner, they found themselves facing the tiny central park with its quaint, white washed bandstand and the village war memorial.

As quaint as the scene was, something was very wrong with the atmosphere of the place. Harry stood behind Dumbledore, listening and observing the witches and wizards who went about their daily business, and puzzling out what was bothering him. Then, he knew: for all the people populating the square, no one spoke above a whisper and everyone seemed to be scurrying about instead of strolling along. It was last summer in Diagon Alley all over again.

"Professor, why is everyone so quiet?" Harry whispered, walking as close as he dared.

"Death Eater attack last night," Dumbledore answered shortly. "Two families, one Muggle, one wizard, were found dead in their beds under the Dark Mark. All six children were slated to enter Hogwarts. The Muggle family's twin boys would have received their letters tomorrow."

"Is there anything we can do?" Harry asked bleakly.

"Yes, Harry. Help me find and destroy all of the Horcruxes as fast as possible." On this note, Dumbledore crossed the square and led the way towards the village church whose spire Harry could just make out amongst the trees in the distance.

The old stone church stood at the bottom of a hill and was surrounded by an enormous graveyard enclosed by a cast iron fence. To one side, a gate stood partially open as though someone had been too lazy to shut it. No one was around, so Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, stuffed it in his bag and took out his camera.

"Take a good look at this place, Harry," Dumbledore said, nodding in approval at the camera. "Do you see where the Wizarding families have placed their dead?"

Harry snapped a picture. "Most likely in the places devoid of grave markers," he commented, not taking the camera away from his face. He turned a little, adjusted the focus and took a second photo. He lowered the camera. "Are my parents' graves located here?"

"Yes, Harry. Your family crypt is located at the top of the hill," Dumbledore told him, pointing to a hill in the back corner of the cemetery. "It's in the protected area. The Muggles have never been able to put their graves in that particular corner of the cemetery.

"May I go in?"

"Explore all you like. When you want to view the graves, pull out your wand. I'll wait for you by the gate."

Harry opened the gate and began walking along the path leading to the back of the cemetery. He reached the top of the hill and looked around. There weren't many graves up here, at least at first glance. The entire area appeared to be empty except for a marble bench surrounding the trunk of a massive oak tree. It was rather beautiful and quite peaceful up here.

Harry pulled out his wand. As he did so, the air on the hilltop shimmered a little, revealing the graves that populated the area and prevented the Muggles from digging under the tree. The urge to search the graves stole over him and he wove amongst the markers peering closely at the names etched in the rocks. He recognized many of them: Abbott, Kirk, Chambers, Flint, Clearwater, Davies...

He stopped in front of a row of plain granite headstones and stared at them for a long time. He'd found Dumbledore's family and was overcome with sadness because he now understood that very soon the name "Albus Dumbledore" would be added to those resting on this hill; the curse that had caused Dumbledore's illness last weekend would eventually kill him. With a sigh, Harry wrenched his eyes from the nearest headstone and wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

_I'm here to find my parents,_ he reminded himself, and resumed his search.

He found what he was looking for amongst a group of family crypts near the tree and stood gaping at the huge Potter Family vault. He had been expecting small stone markers like the ones he'd seen so far and to find this mammoth building was somewhat shocking. He stepped in front of the doorway and pushed his lit wand through the bars of the gate obstructing his entrance. Name after Potter name filled the walls with dates going back to the thirteenth century in an amazing litany of ancestors he had never known to exist. He found it wonderful to discover, but frustrating because they were not what he sought.

He extinguished his wand, stepped back, and aiming the wand tip at the iron gate, commanded, "_Alohomora!"_ The gate swung inward, allowing him passage into the crypt where, on the floor in the farthest back corner under the window, he read,

JAMES ROBERT POTTER 10 July 1960 to 31 October 1981

LILY EVANS POTTER 26 November1959 to 31 October 1981

Harry stood transfixed, a lump the size of a Quaffle clogging his throat. This was the reason he'd always wanted to come to Godric's Hollow. This made all the stories he'd heard real. If he'd known he was coming here today he would have come prepared with something to lay on their graves.

Then, he laughed. "Are you a wizard or what?" he asked himself out loud. With a flick of his wand, he conjured a bouquet of flowers which he placed upon the cold stone slab. He stood back and surveyed the names of his ancestors, committing to memory as many as he could.

Finally, after running a finger over his parents' names one last time, Harry closed and locked the gate, then stumbled to the bench beneath the oak tree. He stayed on the hilltop a while longer trying to imagine how different his life would be if his parents had lived. He hadn't indulged in this particular pastime for several years and somehow he felt it was all right to pursue these thoughts while sitting by their resting place. Finally, with a small sigh, he gathered up his things and put his wand away. As he began his walk back to where Professor Dumbledore was waiting, the magically concealed graves shimmered out of existence once more.

Dumbledore met him by the cemetery gate. "Are you all right?" he asked kindly.

"Yeah, I am," Harry sighed. "Thank you for bringing me here."

Dumbledore laid a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. "I imagine you have many questions. Do you wish to talk now or wait until later?"

"Later will be fine," Harry said, shaking off his pensive mood. "Can we go see the Memorial now?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, indeed. It is only a short distance away."

Harry pulled on his Invisibility Cloak and followed Dumbledore out of the cemetery and down the street leading out of the village. Again, the further away from the square they went, the more widely spaced the dwellings became. Finally, at the very end of the lane, they came upon a brick wall with an ornate iron gate at the entrance. Professor Dumbledore walked up to it and requested admittance.

"Welcome, Professor! What brings you here this fine day?" the gatekeeper enquired as he stepped from the gatehouse.

"My semi-annual inspection, Mr Campbell," Dumbledore said.

"I'm sure you'll find all is in order, sir," Mr Campbell said, opening the gate.

Professor Dumbledore hesitated just long enough for Harry to slip past before entering the Memorial himself. When the gate was locked again, Harry pulled off the Cloak, causing Mr Campbell to gasp in surprise.

"Heavens, you gave me a scare, Mr Potter!" he exclaimed. He grabbed Harry's hand and pumped it up and down vigorously. "I'm so happy to finally meet you. I hope you will find your family home a fitting place to honour you and your parents."

Harry felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment at the gatekeeper's ardour. "I'm sure I will. Thank you for looking after it," he said, and turned his gaze on the house he should have called home for the last sixteen years.

In the middle of an immaculately manicured lawn stood a two-story Tudor house similar to the others on the street. The ground floor at the front was intact and covered in vines, as was a good portion of the second. However, the middle portion of the roof had been blasted away, exposing the interior to the elements.

"Is that..." Harry asked tentatively.

"Yes, Harry, it is. Do you want to go in and have a look?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry shook his head. "Not right now. Did my mum have a garden?"

Mr Campbell answered first. "Lily Potter's garden is round back. It has been maintained according to her gardening notes. You'll find several benches there to sit upon. Stay as long as you'd like, Mr Potter."

Harry smiled gratefully at the gatekeeper. "Thank you," he murmured, and began walking slowly towards the back of the house. As he passed the front door, his eyes slid upwards to the hole in the roof. It was going to take all his Gryffindor courage to walk up there and he wasn't sure if he was ready.

His mother's garden turned out to be as beautiful as she was in Harry's photos of her. The flower beds were a riot of colour and held both magical and Muggle plants alike. The bed closest to the house was bisected by a gravel path and was dedicated to rosebushes. Harry strolled down the path to find himself staring at a circular medicinal garden edged with foot-high privet hedges. He recognized sage, Echinacea, lemon balm, several types of mint, dittany, lovage, and aconite. The presence of aconite puzzled Harry until he remembered that the plant was used in small quantities in medicinal potions and ointments. He also wondered if his mother had grown the plant because she wanted to help Remus in some way and he wondered, as he passed the plant, if it still sustained his parents' old friend.

In the middle of the next garden room, Harry found a bench and sat down. Here was his mother's kitchen garden, filled with such edible treasures as tomatoes, carrots, onions, runner beans and squashes. Harry closed his eyes and let the peace of the garden wash over him. It calmed his raw nerves and helped him ponder all he had learned about his family today.

The bench shifted as someone sat beside him and Dumbledore's voice asked, "What are you thinking, Harry?"

Harry opened his eyes and stared at the house. "That I was cheated out of a wonderful childhood… I could have had friends before I went to Hogwarts… that I might have had siblings to argue and play with… that my parents would have taken time to show me how to fly or work in a garden like this..."

"And your emotions?"

Harry tried to sort through the myriad feelings that still tumbled about his brain. "Mostly I'm… sad… and angry," he began. "But the more I think about it, the more I'm in awe of this place and… and the people like Mr Campbell who have preserved the Memorial." He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stand on end.

"Writing in your journal might help you organize conflicting thoughts and emotions, Harry. Remember, too, to take some pictures for your photo album," counselled Dumbledore. He stood with difficulty and took several stiff steps before adding, "Come find me at the Quidditch Pitch when you are done."

Before Harry could ask about the pitch, Dumbledore was walking towards the woods at the back of the garden. Harry smiled to himself and dug in his bag for his journal and pen. He opened the cover and inscribed on the flyleaf, "Property of Harry James Potter/31 July 1997." After entering the date a second time on the first page, he paused with the pen poised above the first line. Finally, he wrote, "Of all the ways I've ever imagined celebrating my seventeenth birthday, today's journey has never been one of them…"

The words came flooding out as Harry wrote. He covered page after page with his thoughts, trying to capture every little detail of the things he wanted to remember. Finally, when his hand was so cramped it refused to open, he capped his pen and slipped it and the journal back in his bag. Then, he took the camera from its case and began taking pictures; he stopped only when he ran out of film. It was time to find Dumbledore.

After a short walk through the cool wood behind the garden, the trees thinned and finally ended at an open field surrounded by more woods. Professor Dumbledore was seated in the grass when Harry found him and quietly settled down next to him. The two sat in silence as a feeling of peace stole over Harry as he took in the pastoral scene. He smiled as a hawk flew by overhead, chased by a mob of ravens, and in the distance a cow was lowing.

"Your father planned to build you a Quidditch pitch here," said Dumbledore after a while. "Sirius had given you a toy broom when you were born and he and James spent hours pouring over their plans for the pitch. Lily loved to tell the story of coming home from work one evening to find James, Remus and Sirius chasing you and your broom all over this meadow. You couldn't have been more than ten months old!"

"How could I fly at ten months?" Harry asked in disbelief.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Sirius had stuck you to the broom with a Sticking Charm."

"He did? How did they get me off the broom?" Harry asked in amazement.

"Apparently, your mum Summoned you and cancelled the charm, but not before you began caterwauling about wanting to continue flying. The only way she could calm you down was to promise to let you back on the broom the next day. From then on, unless the weather was terrible, you flew here every day."

"I did? Brilliant!" For the second time in his life, Harry felt the thrill of discovering his natural talent on a broom. "Did my father ever fly with me?"

"I cannot answer that, Harry. Maybe Remus Lupin can. You should ask him sometime."

"I will, the next time we meet," Harry said. His stomach growled and he looked away.

"Shall we go back to Gwenyn for lunch or eat here? Dobby packed us a veritable feast, if I'm not mistaken."

"Can we go back to my mum's garden, please? I'd like to eat there if Mr Campbell doesn't mind."

"I do not think he would, Harry," said Dumbledore. He grabbed Harry's elbow for support as he stood.

"Are you getting tired, sir?" asked Harry, concerned.

"A little, but I am with you and I trust you will watch over me if I need to rest."

A knot formed in Harry's throat and he could only nod as they followed the path back to Lily's garden where they found a spot in the shade in which to eat. Afterwards, they bade Mr Campbell good-bye and strolled up the lane to a safe Apparition place. Within moments they were back at Gwenyn.

"I want a short rest before we leave, Harry," said Dumbledore as they entered the house. "Your broom, book and the map are still in the library. Feel free to explore if you'd like. I will be in the bedroom under the stairs if you need me." He indicated a door to the left of the staircase that led to the second floor. "Please wake me in an hour's time."

They parted and Harry went to the library where he became immersed in his new book. At the end of the hour, Harry knocked on the door to wake Dumbledore and the two were soon on the way back to Hogwarts.

**End of Chapter Thirteen**

**A/N: **Dumbledore's family home is namedGwenyn, which is Welsh for "beehive". You may recall that the headmaster's surname is an 18th Century English word meaning "bumblebee" and I imagine that the family would have been rather creative when trying name their estate.

Also, many thanks to Athar for all the help with choosing bar food for Harry and Remus Lupin to share at the beginning of this chapter. She's always willing to set this American straight so my social slip ups and culinary mistakes don't stand out too much. In addition, I send my sincere thanks to GhostWriter for the wonderful pre-beta editing he did while he was swamped with real life issues. He took the time from his busy schedule to write some helpful comments, the results of which have made this better than the original. Finally, to Aggiebell, my beta, I thank you for your comments about canon, my sentence construction—in a couple of places—and the eternal question about Professor Binns... "Why didn't Dumbledore get rid of Binns and get a _real_ History teacher?" I hope someday JKR will give us the answer to that question.


	14. 14 Harry's Birthday

**Chapter 14: Harry's Birthday **

The Burrow's kitchen was hot. There was no other word for it. The oven had been going full blast since seven o'clock and it was now a quarter past ten. Ginny's ponytail hung limply down her back as she wiped the sweat from her brow, shook more flour on her board, and began kneading her fourth batch of bread dough of the morning.

Bread making was another passion she shared with her mother, who loved mixing and kneading bread by hand; spells never seemed to knead the dough thoroughly enough, leaving it dense and very tough to chew because the gluten in the flour hadn't developed enough to support the loaf. It was hard work, but Ginny enjoyed it and she hummed while she worked.

She was thinking of Harry, too. He had written to her on Tuesday with the news that Professor Dumbledore was feeling much better. He had also told her about their plans to go on an excursion together on his birthday. He was hoping Dumbledore would take him to see Godric's Hollow. For her part, Ginny was glad Professor Dumbledore's health had improved to the point that he was willing to spend the time with Harry.

She smiled; Harry was seventeen today.

The kitchen door slammed, making her look up. Ron, so sweaty she could smell him across the room, walked over to the sink and filled a glass with water. Downing the water in one large gulp, he then smiled crookedly at her and said, "Morning, Ginny. Where's Mum?"

"Good morning to you, too. She's upstairs changing beds," she said, going back to her kneading. "What have you been doing?"

He mopped his sweaty face with his handkerchief and refilled his glass. "Mum had me weeding and degnoming the back garden. When I finished that, I went for my morning run. Blimey, it's hot!" he exclaimed. He turned on the faucet again and stuck his head under the running water. "Ahhh! That feels good!" he commented, raising his head just enough for some of the water to cascade down his back.

Now shaping her dough for rising, Ginny commented, "Ew! Go take a shower. You stink!"

"I wish I could," Ron said ruefully. He dried his hair with a spell before stepping away from the sink. "There's a hole in the fence around the chicken coop that needs fixing. Mum doesn't know about that yet, but she will if I don't take care of it soon and the chickens escape. I think something got in there last night. From the looks of it, whatever it is was after eggs."

"How do you know?"

"All the hens are there, but they look a bit ruffled, you know what I mean?"

Ginny did know. At least once a summer, a fox had gained access into the chicken yard and scared all the chickens half to death. "How come we didn't hear them?" she asked.

"Beats me," Ron said, pushing away from the sink. "You almost done with that? I could use some help."

"Almost, but I can't go out until I finish tidying the sitting room. And I still have to wait for the bread," she told him, plopping the dough into a large bowl and pushing it aside. She turned round, opened the oven and tapped the loaves inside. "Not done yet."

"Not hollow enough?" Ron asked knowingly.

"Nope. You'd think that on a day as hot as this they'd rise and bake twice as fast as they do in winter, but nothing doing."

"How come you're making bread anyway? I thought you and Mum made some on Monday."

"We did, but that was for the family. Harry's birthday dinner's on Saturday and Mum wants plenty of fresh bread for the meal. This'll keep for two days easily," Ginny said, punching down another batch of dough and emptying it onto her board for final shaping. "She'd bake it fresh Saturday morning, but she needs the kitchen for creating Harry's cake and making dinner."

"Why's she making such a big fuss over his birthday?" Ron asked, moving out of Ginny's way so that she could put her bowl in the sink.

Ginny frowned. "It has everything to do with making up for all the birthday parties Harry never had at the Dursleys," she said, slamming a cupboard door. A bowl hissed as the dough in it deflated. Ginny swore under her breath, making Ron smirk. "She wants this to be the perfect celebration for him. His favourite foods, loads of presents, an enormous cake, lots of friends to help him celebrate … You should see the guest list—it's huge. Mum's pulling her hair out over that plus worrying that the Dursleys will actually come. Can you believe she _invited_ them?" she ranted as she splashed washing powder into the sink and began washing dishes.

"You're kidding! Why would she do that?" Ron asked. He grabbed a cup towel and began drying the dishes for her.

"Did you wash your hands?" Ginny snapped. She grabbed the towel and plate he was holding and gestured towards the dish water with her elbow. "Mum seems to think that now that the Dursleys have been living amongst wizards for a month, his aunt and uncle will be more accepting of us and want to celebrate Harry's seventeenth birthday with him."

Ron snorted. "Fat chance that will happen," he said, dunking his hands in the soapy water.

"Thanks." Ginny grinned and gave him back the towel. "I don't think it will happen either, but there is the chance Dudley will come."

"How do you know?"

"I heard Mum talking to Dedalus Diggle yesterday afternoon. Dudley's been asking about what wizards give each other for their birthdays. As if we were any different from them! I really think he's serious about coming to the party."

"Why? He'll stick out like a sore thumb!" Ron stacked several bowls and gently put them away in a cupboard.

"Well," Ginny said thoughtfully, "he did make that effort to help Harry get well by teaching him weight lifting, and Harry said in his last letter that Dudley's been writing to him regularly at Hogwarts. I don't know... Dudley seems to be making an effort to actually be _nice_ to Harry."

Ron took a chef's knife from the sink and dried it carefully. "So if Dudley's on the guest list, who else is coming?

Ginny ticked off her fingers. "Professor Lupin can't come, but Tonks can. So can Mad-Eye Moody, Kingsley, Mrs Chang, Professors Dumbledore, Flitwick and McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey. Then, there's Neville, everyone on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, all of us, Seamus, Dean, Hermione and Luna. Lavender, Parvati and Padma were invited, too, but they're not coming because the Patils are in India visiting their grandmother and Lavender doesn't want to come alone. Oh, and Bill's bringing Fleur."

"I hope we're eating in the garden," Ron chuckled. "With that many people here there won't be any place to sit in the house."

"We are," Ginny said, going back to her board to shape her dough into loaves. "Oh, that reminds me, Ron. Mum asked if you'd go up to the attic and find all the folding chairs and tables and bring them down for me to dust. She wants the clean ones stored in the scullery."

Ron groaned as he put the last wooden spoon in its drawer. He took his time hanging up his towel. "I guess I'd better get out there and fix the fence, then. See you in a bit."

Ginny refilled Ron's glass and cast a cooling charm on it. He wagged his finger at her as he took it. "Thanks."

When he'd gone, Ginny took the loaves from the oven, put another three in to bake and then went to the sitting room to begin tidying it. As she straightened the sofa cushions, a sudden, unfathomable sadness engulfed her. She sank to the floor, holding her head in her hands until the feeling passed. As soon as she felt better, she resumed her task, wondering what had come over her.

A little later, the sadness returned, although not as strong and with a certain amount of curiosity attached as well. Again, she sat down on the nearest pouf and this time she concentrated on the feeling by closing her eyes. Fuzzy images floated to the surface of her mind's eye; a graveyard, a barren hill, an elderly wizard, a crypt. The crypt seemed to have more significance than the other images; it was clearer than all the others and was lasting the longest.

"Ginny, are you all right?" her mother's voice called gently.

Feeling somewhat irritated by the disturbance, Ginny turned towards her mother, who stood in the doorway. "I'm fine," she mumbled, feeling her wet cheeks. Had she been crying?

Mrs Weasley came round the sofa, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket. She bent down and dabbed gently at Ginny's face as she asked, "It doesn't look like it. What's wrong?" She sat down on the sofa and patted the cushion next to her. Ginny joined her.

It took a moment for Ginny to gather her thoughts. Finally, she said, "It's really weird. All morning I've been experiencing emotions that aren't mine." She paused, fiddling with a hole in the hem of her shirt. "They started out rather nice, kind of like little wisps of pleasant feelings like excitement and intense joy. But now... now all I'm getting is sorrow. It's a little scary because I don't know whose they are."

Mrs Weasley asked, "Who have you been thinking about most today?"

"Harry," Ginny answered quickly, without having to think about it.

"And is it true that there's some sort of bond between you two?"

Startled, Ginny asked, "How do you know about that?"

"There's not much a mother misses, Ginny. I've known for a long time there was something wonderful about your relationship with Harry. Why else would he go to such lengths to try to convince us that there was a forgotten fund for Quidditch players at Hogwarts when it's really him who made sure there was gold for your recovery? Hmmmm?" Ginny just stared at her mother. "Oh, yes, Ginny, your father and I figured that one out long ago, but we will wait until Harry chooses to tell us, if he ever does. In the meantime, injured Quidditch players at Hogwarts will benefit from Harry's generosity just like you did."

"You're not angry or embarrassed?"

"On the contrary, we're very grateful to him," said Mrs Weasley with a tender look at her daughter. "The fact remains, darling, that Harry is one very special young man who cares very deeply about many things, including you. You share something magical with him and, from what I've heard, it's something that connects you two in ways your father and I cannot imagine." She paused as if to let her next words have more effect. "Do you suppose, on the day that Professor Dumbledore was to take Harry to Godric's Hollow, he is unconsciously opening up his feelings to you?"

Ginny nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. Somehow, her mother had found a way to explain what was happening between her and Harry and make it a beautiful thing instead of something to be scared and confused over.

"Have you seen anything besides the emotions you're feeling?"

Ginny told her what she had seen and Mrs Weasley said, "I'm sorry I interrupted you. Hopefully, knowing how Harry is feeling today will help the two of you talk about his experiences."

"Maybe it will. I just hope whatever else Harry sees today is happier than what he's experienced so far this morning. I can't imagine what it's like to be so sad on a day that's supposed to be one of your happiest. What else is in Godric's Hollow besides his parents' graves?"

"If I remember correctly, the Potter family home," Mrs Weasley said with a faraway look in her eyes. "After James and Lily were buried there was talk about making the place into a shrine of some sort. I never heard whether or not it was."

"I'll find out if it has if Professor Dumbledore takes Harry there, right?" asked Ginny, looking hopeful.

"The emotions might need to be very strong for him to send them to you without his knowledge. But no matter what, if the two of you need some time together when he gets here, I'll make sure you'll not be bothered by your brothers," Mrs Weasley said, her mouth turning up in a understanding smile. She opened her arms and Ginny leaned into her mother's embrace.

"Thanks, Mum."

Mrs Weasley rose with a sigh. "Thank you for sharing this with me, Ginny. You'll be all right now?"

"I will, Mum. You've helped me a lot," she said, and turned her back to re-evaluate what needed to be tidied next.

All throughout the afternoon, Ginny thought about Harry as she worked. While she finished straightening the sitting room, she thought about what to give Harry for his birthday. She knew her mother was worrying about that, too. Her mother's biggest concern was whether or not to give Harry the traditional gift of a wizard's watch or something more modern; Ginny was certain her parents wanted to give Harry the traditional gift because she'd seen her mum going through her Uncle Fabian's effects on Tuesday evening. She had been turning his watch over and over in her hands before putting it back in its box. It would be a special gift, Ginny was sure of it, because Harry had told her once about his picture of the original Order of the Phoenix that included pictures of her two dead uncles.

That didn't solve Ginny's problem, however. There were only so many boxes of sweets one could give year after year before the repetitious gift became commonplace. Besides, this was supposed to be a very special birthday for Harry and she wanted her gift to be worthy of his coming of age. Finally, as she finished dusting and stacking the folding chairs in the scullery, she decided that she needed a quick trip to the village to see if she could find something more lasting, even though she had very little Muggle money. Abandoning her dust rag on the washing machine, she went in search of her mother.

She found her in Fred and George's old room shrinking boxes of Wheezes to make room for Harry's trunk.

"Mum, can I go into the village to look a gift for Harry? Please?" she added, hoping the emphasis on the last word wouldn't escape her mother.

Mrs Weasley's answer to Ginny's request was reluctant and laced with concern. "I'll let you go into the village on one condition, Ginny," she said. "Take Ron with you. It's not safe to be wandering around by yourself, even in the Muggle world."

Grinning, Ginny sprinted up the stairs towards the bathroom where Ron was finally getting to take a shower. She yelled through the door, "Ron, would you go into Ottery St Catchpole with me?"

"Why?" he called back.

"I need to find Harry a birthday gift," she said, a calculating grin spreading over her face. "We could go to that sweet shop you're so crazy about when I'm done."

Ron answered, "Well, if you put it that way, yes, I'll go with you. Give me ten minutes."

Fifteen minutes later, Mrs Weasley handed Ginny and Ron five pounds each from her special cache of Muggle money. "Add that to your pocket money. You've both been a big help this week and I appreciate it. Now run along and go find something nice for Harry," she said, shooing them out the kitchen door.

Ginny exchanged grins with Ron as they started down the lane towards the village. It felt like old times, before either of them went to Hogwarts, when their mother needed some time to herself and sent them to the village on errands.

As she walked along, not really listening to Ron's enthusiastic monologue about what he wanted to get most at the sweet shop, more emotional transmissions came from Harry along with fleeting, fuzzy images of a lovely garden, two different houses and a huge field. She felt his peace and melancholy and deep regret, but not the uncontrollable sorrow of the morning. Harry seemed to be enjoying this part of his day.

They had just crossed bridge over the River Otter that led into the village when she felt it: fear so deep it made her stop and grab Ron's arm for support.

"Ginny, what's wrong?" he asked alarmed.

"Help me sit down," she whispered. She was shaking from head to foot and her head was throbbing badly.

Ron guided her to a shady spot under a tree and helped her to lean against its trunk. "What's wrong?" he repeated.

Briefly, Ginny told him about the images. Then, she said, "Something's really wrong, Ron. Harry is scared, really terrified. He needs help and Dumbledore can't give it to him!"

Ron jumped to his feet and attempted to pull Ginny up as well.

"No! Stop that, Ron!" she pleaded. "We can't help Harry. I just know it. He's hundreds of miles away. There's no way we can get to him fast enough!"

"We could Apparate," Ron suggested.

"That won't help. I think they're flying and they've been ambushed in the air somehow," Ginny said miserably.

"Then what can we do?" he demanded, frustration evident in his voice.

"Just let me sit here a moment. I want to see if I can see anything, get any clues to Harry's whereabouts," she said.

Ron nodded and sat down next to her. She closed her eyes and tried to block out the sounds of the village and the occasional passing vehicle. It was difficult, but eventually more than Harry's overwhelming terror began flashing through her mind. What she saw made her feel sick to her stomach. Harry and Dumbledore were flying for their lives and Harry was desperately worried they wouldn't make it to the Hogwarts boundary. Whoever was shooting spells at them was Disillusioned. The sun was low in the sky, making it easy to see the coloured light of the individual spells because they were so far north. Harry was angry, too, both at those he was fighting and at Dumbledore for wanting to fly back to the school from Glasgow. He was also beginning to panic. Ginny concentrated hard on this feeling and even tried to send Harry calming thoughts.

_Show me where you are, Harry. _ She pleaded. _Who are you fighting?_

Harry didn't answer. Instead, she heard his frantic thoughts.

_Shouldn't we fly faster? Am I visible, too? That last spell must have cancelled my spell._

_I've got you, sir, hold on!_

_How far to Hogwarts? I must get to Hogsmeade!_

_I can't hold them much longer!_

_Oh, God! **Ginny!**_

A sudden flash of red light exploded in Ginny's mind and the images stopped abruptly. "No! Harry!" she cried.

Ron's arm was around her shoulders instantly. "What is it, Ginny?"

"Harry's been Stunned," Ginny whispered. "Oh!" she gasped as a very familiar object suddenly appeared in the air in front of her. It dropped to the ground before she could get her hand around it.

"What the—" Ron cried. "No! No, it can't be!" He seemed almost in denial.

"Harry's wand," Ginny murmured, picking up the slim length of holly lying in the dirt where it had fallen. Her hand shook badly.

"They've really got him," Ron said in a strangled voice. "I—I don't want to believe it."

"Believe it, Ron!" she snapped. "Harry sent me his wand so the Death Eaters won't get it. He's defenceless now." Tears began coursing down her cheeks, even though she was trying hard to contain them. She turned into Ron's shoulder and began to sob.

"Crying won't help Harry, Ginny," Ron said gently. "Can you stand? I'm going to Apparate us home. Mum will know what to do."

He stood up and gently tugged Ginny to her feet. She clung to him as they walked into some bushes that flanked the road and braced herself for Side-Along-Apparition. Moments later, they landed at the gate leading to The Burrow's property. Ginny's knees buckled as soon as her feet touched the ground. She struggled to her feet and let Ron lead her inside the gate before he pried her fingers from his arm.

"Stay here. I'll get Mum," he said.

"No, Ron. I can make it. Getting help for Harry is more important than how I'm feeling right now," she said, wiping her eyes determinedly.

They took off together, sprinting across the yard towards the house. Their mother must have seen them for she burst out the front door and met them halfway across the garden.

"It's Harry, isn't it? Something's happened to him and Dumbledore!" she cried, coming up to Ginny and placing her hands upon her arms. "What did you see? Did you hear anything? Tell me all you know. It's important!"

"Harry and Dumbledore were Stunned," Ginny moaned. "I think they were ambushed someplace in Scotland between Edinburgh and Hogwarts." She pulled Harry's wand from her pocket and held it out for her mother to see. "Harry sent me his wand."

Mrs Weasley breathed deeply before she spoke. "Come inside, Ginny, Ron. I've got to contact your father and he'll want the whole story." Mrs Weasley hurried them into the house where she stopped in front of the fireplace. Ron and Ginny continued on into the kitchen as their mother stuck her head into the green flames.

"Do you need anything, Ginny?" Ron asked.

"Maybe some water," Ginny said weakly. She groped for a kitchen chair and fell into it, still clutching Harry's wand. Ron hurriedly pulled out his wand and Summoned a glass of water for her, not bothering to go to the sink. "Thanks, Ron." She smiled wanly at him as he pulled out his own chair and sat down to wait with her.

An hour later, Mr Weasley emerged from the kitchen fireplace. "It's been confirmed," he announced gravely. "Dumbledore and Harry have been kidnapped by Death Eaters. They found Dumbledore's broken broom, an old Moontrimmer, and his wand in the forest outside Hogsmeade. There is no trace of Harry."

**End of Chapter Fourteen**


	15. 15 Darkness…

**Chapter 15: Darkness…**

**Captured, Part 1**

Pain lanced through Harry's scar, awakening him from his spell-induced stupor. He shook his head, trying to clear away the cobwebs and get his bearings in the dark. As the scar continued to prickle, he realized that he'd forgotten how much it had hurt him back in fifth year. The pain was back with a vengeance and as he retreated from it into his mind, he glimpsed Voldemort sitting before a fire looking very pleased with the work of his Death Eaters… _They have the boy!_

Harry shook his head again, hoping his glasses would stay on his nose while willing the pain away, and trying valiantly to understand his predicament. The only thing he could move was his head. He raised it and quickly came in contact with something hard and rounded like a stick. He also seemed to be moving… backwards! He could feel the chill wind flying up his trouser legs and he knew for certain that his situation was worse than he thought; flashes of spell-fire, images of Dumbledore falling from his broken broom, and the terrorizing feeling of being surrounded by a dozen Death Eaters were more than enough for Harry to understand that he and the headmaster were now captives. He groaned inwardly and looked around desperately for Dumbledore.

He found him several yards away, a faintly outlined, Disillusioned weight dangling face-down and bound to a broom that was being towed backwards on a long tether behind a Death Eater's broom. Dumbledore was still unconscious and Harry hoped he would remain that way until the two of them were delivered to their destination… wherever that might be. Harry sighed and continued gazing about him.

They were flying southwest. He knew that because the light was remaining a constant twilight instead of deepening into darkness as it should have if they were going north or north east. With a sinking feeling, Harry realized they were flying away from Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. He breathed deeply to steady himself and peered into the lengthening shadows.

The terrain below him was rocky, mountainous even, and Harry saw several lakes in the distance. This clue to their whereabouts brought fear to his heart: from his primary school geography lessons he knew there were caves dotting the region, and if the Death Eaters were taking him to one of those, there was no hope of a quick rescue; there were simply too many lakes and caverns in the area for a small group such as the Order of the Phoenix to search quickly. He closed his eyes as a feeling of utter hopelessness threatened to overwhelm him.

Several minutes later, Harry became aware of a sinking feeling. He opened his eyes and looked about. Yes, they were descending. An idea formed in Harry's head and he began trying to memorize the view beneath him. There, to his right, was a long lake with a white building on its shore. A short distance away was another smaller, lake with a tall mountain on its northern shore as its landmark. Finally, straight in front of him at the confluence of a third lake and a river, were the lights of a small village. As his captors altered their course to his right, Harry thought of Ginny as hard as he could.

_Ginny, I need you to see this… really hope this works… _ He concentrated on showing her the lake with the white building first. _Death Eaters flying southwest… I think I'm flying backwards, trussed to my Firebolt… head pointed northeast… this is on my right._ Not knowing how long to project the image, but remembering the ease with which he had shown her some of his memories five months earlier, he proceeded to send her his memories of the other two lakes and tell her where he was. When he finished, he sighed and gave in to the urge to panic.

_Oh, Merlin! They're taking me to Voldemort… I'm not ready to fight, not yet… Help me, Ginny, someone… I don't want to die! I'm not ready to die!_

A little voice inside his head that sounded like Ron's counselled, _Easy does it, Harry. Get a grip. For now, you've done what you can. Relax and enjoy the scenery._

_Better said than done,_ Harry grumbled to himself, but he felt more in control than he had when he first regained consciousness. He decided to take the voice's advice because the land spreading beneath him was, indeed, ruggedly beautiful.

The Death Eaters altered their course, descending at a steep angle and turning east towards a large outcropping of rocks. Harry began to panic again. _Calm down, Potter, _he told himself. _You can't do yourself or Dumbledore any good if you don't think straight. Find something else to send Ginny._

Unfortunately, it was now too dark to pick out any distinguishing characteristics other than the fact that there was a large wooded area below him. His last thought before his stomach brushed the top branches of several pine trees was, _Ginny, if I don't come out of this alive, always remember that I love you._

The next instant, the Death Eater who was towing him swooped into the mouth of a dimly lit cavern. There was the crunch of gravel as he landed and Harry was sure that he'd scrape his front on the cave floor. He closed his eyes, waiting for the impact that never came. Instead, the Firebolt came to a hovering halt at the exact height it always had, ready for Harry to mount it and fly away properly. For that, Harry was grateful.

Footsteps signalled the arrival of the rest of the group and a voice from further inside the cave boomed, "You're late, Dolohov. I don't tolerate tardiness and neither does the Dark Lord."

Dolohov's voice quavered. "They fought back. Potter fights as good as he flies, Yaxley."

The unexpected compliment nearly made Harry smile.

"We knew that," Yaxley said. "And the old man?"

"No fight left in him. He let Potter do all the casting," Dolohov answered.

"Interesting. Bring them here!" Yaxley barked.

Harry felt something hard hit the top of his head and immediately felt the trickling warmth of the Disillusionment spell being reversed. He quickly closed his eyes, feigning total unconsciousness—it wouldn't do for his captors to discover that he was awake at the moment—and listened carefully to the various conversations around him as he felt his Firebolt being towed farther into the cave.

"He's not going to need this any more," Dolohov said, causing the group of Death Eaters to laugh maliciously. The next instant he muttered "_Reducto_"_,_ and Harry felt his broom shatter as he was unceremoniously dropped at the feet of one of the Death Eaters. Rage swept through Harry and he nearly gave away his wakefulness: the Firebolt had been his last link to Sirius and now it was gone.

_Stay calm… breathe… stay calm… slowly… mourn it later,_ he told himself as someone cast the spell to revive him. He found he could now move his arms and legs and feel the pain of someone tightening the ropes around his ankles.

Someone kicked him hard in the ribs, causing him to roll over onto the splinters embedded in his skin from the Firebolt's handle and stare at the ceiling of the cave. When he winced, the group laughed again at his discomfort.

"Let him have it, Antonin," someone yelled as Dolohov yanked Harry upright by the hair and threw him at Yaxley's feet. Harry moaned quietly as his head hit the ground. The Death Eaters laughed again.

"Good, he's awake," Yaxley commented. "Do you have his wand?"

The Death Eaters fell silent.

"Well, where is it?" Yaxley demanded.

"We don't know," Dolohov mumbled. "Potter dropped it just before we Stunned him."

"You imbecile!" Yaxley yelled. "You knew the Dark Lord wanted that wand! He won't be pleased at your incompetence and neither am I. _Crucio!"_

Dolohov crumpled to the ground beside Harry, screaming loudly. The sound reverberated through the cave, amplified by the stone walls. Yaxley eventually lifted the spell and addressed Harry.

"I should do that to you," he growled, "but I have my orders to leave you untouched. You think you're so clever. Well, you may not be so cocky after we're through with you."

Harry said nothing.

"Carrow," Yaxley barked. "Get him out of my sight."

"What should we do with the old man?" the Death Eater called Carrow asked, walking up.

"Wake him later at your leisure," Yaxley commanded. "Take them to the cells, but _don't touch Potter_. Remember, the Dark Lord wants him left alone." Then, turning on his heel, Yaxley walked away, leaving Harry and Dumbledore alone with their captors.

Carrow approached Harry. He severed the ropes around his ankles, heaved him to his feet and began pushing him into the cave. Harry went reluctantly, dragging his feet and trying to trip the man holding his arm in a vice-like grip. He nearly succeeded.

"Oh, no, you don't," Carrow snapped, drawing his wand and muttering, _"Petrificus Totalus."_

Harry's body stiffened and he fell face down on the rocky floor of the cave. The next instant Carrow cast a Hover Charm on Harry and, grabbing him by the hair, began towing him further into the depths of the cave.

The deeper they went, the eerier the cavern became. Torches in hanging brackets lit the way; they threw flickering shadows on the walls and ceiling, illuminating the stalactites that hung from the roof. Harry tried to memorize the route they were taking, but after the sixth or seventh reversal of direction, he lost track of which way to turn and gave up.

Several minutes later, Carrow stopped walking and addressed the masked Death Eater who loomed over Harry. "Which cell?"

The familiar, drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy answered, "Detention Cell Three. Come with me." He lit his wand and walked away.

Carrow turned left and towed Harry down a tunnel, following Malfoy. The tunnel seemed to have been carved from the rock with a spell; its walls and ceiling were gouged with regular marks that suggested the use of a Grinding Spell. The two Death Eaters turned down a side tunnel and eventually stopped. Harry heard Malfoy mutter a spell. The door to the cell opened and Harry was towed into the middle of the room.

"Should I leave him like that?" Carrow asked, laughing sycophantically.

"Remove the spells," Malfoy ordered. "Leave him."

With a flick of a wand, the spells ended and Harry dropped onto the cell floor, banging his head hard as the door thudded shut. Harry closed his eyes against the pain and slipped into unconsciousness.

**oOo**

The drip of water somewhere in the cave penetrated the silence surrounding Harry's mind first. He had no idea how long he lay in the dark, listening to the sound, but as consciousness returned, so did his awareness of pain. His head felt as if it might split open in several places – not only due to the continued prickling of his scar, but the huge bump on the back of his head. He was also extremely thirsty and wondered if part of his problem was dehydration.

He ached all over. His arms were still tied behind his back and his shoulders longed for a change in position. Harry struggled against the ropes binding his wrists, but only succeeded in chafing the skin; he'd need to find something sharp to rub against if he wanted to free his hands. His muscles hurt, too; all the struggling he'd done to try to free himself had only resulted in the tightening of his bonds, which applied more pressure to his overly-strained body. He squirmed about, trying to get comfortable, but discovered the movement just caused the splinters in his back to penetrate deeper in his skin. Trickles of blood matted Harry's shirt to his back, adding to his discomfort. He stopped moving and listened again.

There was sound in the cell he hadn't heard when he first came to. Harry listened closely and heard the unmistakable rasp of someone wheezing.

Taking a chance Harry whispered, "Professor Dumbledore, is that you?"

The wheezing stopped and Harry's fellow captive responded, "Yes. Harry, are you all right?"

Relief flooded through Harry. "I'm fine, sir."

"Have they mistreated you in any way?" Dumbledore asked.

"Not much. Dolohov and Carrow dropped me on my head a few times," Harry replied dryly, trying to make light of their situation. He cringed involuntarily as his scar throbbed again; Voldemort was angry, about what was unclear. Harry tried to focus on Dumbledore as he asked, "Are you hurting, Professor?"

Dumbledore's sigh told Harry all he needed to know. "Let's just say the curse is making itself known, Harry. If I keep warm and don't move too suddenly, I'll muddle through this ordeal."

"I know you will, sir," Harry said bracingly. He struggled to sit up and then scooted towards the sound of Dumbledore's voice. He found the headmaster shivering on the floor several feet away and lay down next to him, hoping his body heat would warm the old wizard a little.

"Thank you, Harry," Dumbledore said after a pause. "Your warmth feels wonderful."

"That's what Ginny says when it's snowing outside," Harry responded, his voice cracking with emotion as longing for her came to the surface. _Will I ever see her again?_ he wondered.

The two lay in silence until the door opened and two Death Eaters stomped over to the prisoners. Without a sound, one of them cast a full Body-Bind Curse on Harry. They grabbed Dumbledore by the arms, causing him to cry out, and hauled him from the cell, leaving Harry alone, paralysed and frightened in the darkness.

The loss of movement only fuelled Harry's fears. The darkness pressed in around him; it hid unknowns, concealed dangers and played with his judgement. It seeped into his psyche and made him doubt his ability to cope with being alone, tied up and unable to move. It made him remember things he didn't want to and, much the same as when he was visited by Dementors, it showed him the worst memories of his life, including his failed attempt to get Dumbledore back to Hogwarts safely…

"_Harry, I would like you to travel only with your broom and wand on the journey back to Hogwarts," Professor Dumbledore requested as they prepared to Apparate back to Glasgow._

"_Any special reason, sir?" Harry asked, unbuckling his rucksack from his back. "Should I keep the Invisibility Cloak?"_

"_You will not need it," Dumbledore said. "As for me, this will be the last Apparition I ever do. I am extremely tired and wish a more leisurely flight back to Hogwarts." _

"_Last Apparition, sir? How come?" Harry asked, his brow furrowing in concern._

"_I am weak, Harry. Apparition is a power-consuming spell at the best of times over long distances. As sick as I am, I am not certain I will have the power in the future to Apparate any distance at all. I hope you understand," Professor Dumbledore admitted. _

_He looked away as Harry said, "I understand."_

_They were silent for a bit, then Dumbledore said, "I know flying back to Hogwarts will take more time and it might even invite Death Eaters to shadow us. They may even engage us in an airborne duel, but it is a chance I must take in order to preserve my strength. I am sorry, Harry."_

_Harry raised an eyebrow. "Airborne duel?"_

"_Yes. My source here in Godric's Hollow has alerted me to an elevated degree of Death Eater activity further north, Harry. We must be alert and unencumbered if we are to fly safely from Glasgow to Hogwarts."_

"_I see," Harry said, pulling his wand from his back pocket and pointing it at his rucksack._

_Dumbledore laid a hand on Harry's arm, stopping him from casting the spell. "Thank you for sending your things ahead. I'd hate to have those wonderful memories we made today taken from you."_

_The implication of danger descended upon Harry like a ton of bricks and he quickly Banished his rucksack to his suite's sitting room sofa. "I'm ready, sir, whenever you are," he said, stowing his wand and taking hold of Dumbledore's arm. He wished Dumbledore would trust him to Apparate them both to Hogsmeade, but knew the old wizard had his reasons._

A sudden, intense pain knifed through Harry's scar, causing his eyes to water. Voldemort's high, angry voice filled Harry's head, overriding his musing, and two figures in a dimly lit room became visible.

"You have failed, Yaxley!" Voldemort snarled. "I gave you specific orders to bring me Potter's wand. Yet, you bring me only excuses for why you do not have it, even though you have the boy!" He withdrew his wand from his pocket and raised it, almost leisurely, at the man cringing before him on the floor. "I will not tolerate such sloppiness. _Crucio!_"

Yaxley doubled over, screaming. Harry's scar seared, driving the vision from his head and leaving him sick and shaking on the cell floor. The vision had cancelled the Body-Bind and he rolled away from the pool of vomit and lay panting, facing the door, as soon as he felt well enough to move. It was a while before he could settle back into the memories of the trip back to Hogwarts again.

_The Apparition back to the glen on the outskirts of Glasgow seemed to take much longer than it had that morning. Harry landed heavily, gasping for breath and clutching the stitch in his side. He immediately turned to look at Professor Dumbledore; the old wizard's face above his beard was chalky in colour and he trembled violently. Harry quickly guided him to a nearby log where they sat quietly for a time._

_Dumbledore eventually felt well enough to continue. They Disillusioned themselves, mounted their brooms and began the flight north. Harry kept a wary eye out for disguised fliers like themselves, but the sky remained clear._

_Their conversation was easy, centring on the history of Godric's Hollow and the members of Harry's family buried in the crypt. Dumbledore had known many of those who had lived in James and Lily's house and he identified several of the people Harry remembered from the Mirror of Erised. However, the more they talked, the slower they flew, until it was too dark to see Dumbledore's terrain-coloured outline._

"_Shouldn't we fly faster?" Harry asked, feeling guilty that he was anxious over how far they still had to fly. "Where are we?"_

"_Hogwarts is over the second ridge," Dumbledore said, pointing. "Our light is fading swiftly. I agree we should fly faster." He sped up and Harry followed._

_However, almost immediately, Harry regretted his request; the closer they flew to Hogsmeade, the more visible Dumbledore became. Hogwarts came into view and Harry let out a sigh of relief; they were nearly home._

_The spells came out of nowhere. Six jets of blinding light, all aimed at Dumbledore's Moontrimmer, whizzed past Harry and hit the ancient broom at the same time. Dumbledore shouted as the handle exploded and he began tumbling through space. Harry, his Quidditch reflexes kicking in, dove instinctively and snatched the old man from the air before he fell too far._

"_There's Potter!" a familiar voice yelled. "After him!"_

"_I've got you, sir! Hold on!" Harry yelled, hauling Dumbledore onto his broom while dodging several spells. He threw up a shield and looped around towards the village; if he could reach Hogsmeade he had a chance of landing and making it a fairer fight._

_The Death Eaters pursued them doggedly, each firing spells at Harry's shield so fast that Harry's head began to spin. A spell struck his broom's tail causing it to slow considerably and Harry pointed his wand over his shoulder and returned fire: a scream told him his jinx had hit its mark. Desperately, Harry urged the Firebolt to its maximum speed, but with two riders the crippled broom just managed to stay airborne. Their pursuers closed in steadily._

_Professor Dumbledore wasn't any help. Barely conscious enough to cling to the Firebolt's handle, he nearly fell several times. Harry feared that they wouldn't make it to the village: he could only fly for Apparition might kill his companion._

_They were over the outskirts of Hogsmeade when the Death Eaters finally surrounded them and Harry could fly forward no more. Everywhere he looked black-robed figures hovered in an ever-closing circle. The same terror that had filled Harry in the Little Hangleton graveyard on the night of Voldemort's rebirth now flooded his mind and soul. The Death Eaters were going to take him to Voldemort, make him fight the battle he knew he was still unprepared for… he was going to lose because Voldemort still had ties to his soul someplace in the world. He, Harry, would fail spectacularly and the Wizarding world would be plunged into chaos because of his failure._

_Harry cast a few more hopeless spells thinking, "I can't hold them much longer!" And then, as more Stunning Spells than he had ever had levelled at him sped towards him and Dumbledore, he thought, "Oh God! **Ginny!"** and Banished his wand, hoping against hope that his wandless spell had worked and that she would somehow get his wand._

The memory faded as the Stunning Spells found their targets. Once again, Harry lay alone and miserable on the hard stone floor of his cell. He felt terrible. For the first time in his life, he had failed at more than just catching the Snitch, and now both he and Professor Dumbledore were paying the price.

**End of Chapter Fifteen**


	16. 16 Dudley Helps Out

**Chapter Sixteen: Dudley Helps Out**

**31 August 1997**

Ginny paced the floor of her bedroom. She couldn't sleep for worry about Harry and Professor Dumbledore, and she knew that if she went downstairs for a cup of hot chocolate, she'd find either her mother or Ron sitting at the table staring at nothing in particular. Night was not a good time at The Burrow for anyone these days.

The last month had been torture for everyone in her family. During the first week after the kidnapping, hopes had run high that Harry and Dumbledore would be found swiftly and the Death Eaters responsible taken into custody because of the mental pictures she had received from Harry. She knew the pictures had been helpful, showing her, if not the precise location, the general area where Harry had been taken. However, the longer she looked at the magical relief map that her father had finally obtained from the Ministry, the more confused she became; there were so many lakes in the mountains of Scotland that they seemed to morph one into another. Thousands of caves pockmarked the Scottish terrain, many created or protected magically. Locating the right one would take months, if not years. But to Ginny, no news was good news, and she clung to the hope that eventually her boyfriend and the Headmaster would be found alive.

That hope had leaked away as the days turned into weeks and the weeks to a month. She was upset because Harry had missed so much, including Bill and Fleur's wedding in France. The happiness her family should have felt over the joyous event had been stripped away, and an air of gloom had hovered over the nuptials.

Even more depressing was the fact that Harry was going to miss the start of the school year. Tomorrow, September first, she, Ron and Hermione would be going back to Hogwarts without Harry. She wasn't looking forward to the ride on the Hogwarts Express. It just didn't seem right that he wouldn't be on the train, and his absence surely wouldn't go unnoticed. People were bound to ask questions. She groaned as she realized that Slytherins like Draco Malfoy, who had spent three weeks at the castle and had gone back to Grimmauld Place for the last week of August, would most likely be unbearable.

Ginny looked at the clock. It stared back at her, its hands showing it was a little after three o'clock in the morning. She sighed and threw herself down on her bed, pulling her pillow over her head. _Why can't Harry be safely at home?_ she wondered miserably. Eventually, Ginny rolled on her side and stared gloomily at the clock again… half past three…

A loud scuffle down in the kitchen suddenly echoed through the silent house. As Ginny threw open her door and began descending the stairs, other members of her family followed suit. A minute later, the entire Weasley family converged on the ground floor and stared at the three figures of Dudley Dursley, his father and Dedalus Diggle, who were covered in soot and wrestling in front of the kitchen fireplace.

"I demand you go back!" Vernon Dursley roared, making a grab at Dudley's shoulders.

Dudley batted his father's hands away. "No, Dad! I will not go back!" he shouted.

"Let him stay," Dedalus squeaked, trying to insert his small body between the two Dursleys. "He has a right to be here!"

Harry's uncle pushed Dedalus out of the way and finally seized Dudley's arm. "You're coming home, Dudley," he snarled, dragging Dudley towards the fireplace. "I will not have you associating with these freaks and their unnaturalness."

Dudley braced his legs and tugged back. "I asked Dedalus to bring me here. Now let me go! I want to help Harry."

Glaring at his son, Vernon raised a fist as if to strike him. "You're coming with me, Dudley. That is final," he said, his voice now dangerously low.

Ginny's father pushed his way through the assembled Weasleys towards the Dursleys, his wand levelled at Vernon. "Mr Dursley, you will not strike your son," he said evenly. "I will not tolerate violent behaviour in my house. If you insist on man-handling Dudley, I will Stun you. Your behaviour is not wanted in this house and I must insist you act like a civilized human being."

Vernon stared at Mr Weasley, his grip on Dudley's arm making his son's hand turn purple. Dudley's eyes were wide as they zeroed in on Mr Weasley's wand and where it was pointed.

Mr Weasley narrowed his eyes as he repeated his request, "Mr Dursley, please let go of Dudley and step away from him. If you do not, there will be consequences," he said, reminding Ginny of the many times he had broken up altercations between her brothers.

Finally, as Vernon took his hands from Dudley's arm and stepped back a pace, a collective sigh of relief swept through the other members of Ginny's family. Mr Weasley lowered his wand, but kept it visibly at his side.

"Dudley, come here, son," Mr Weasley requested gently.

Dudley glanced at his father's furious face before walking over to the Weasleys. Drawing himself to his full height, he offered his hand to Ginny's father. "I'm sorry for how my father is acting," he said. "He doesn't want me involved in the Wizarding world, thinks Harry has always been a waste of space. But I don't. I've come to help you find Harry."

Ginny gaped at Dudley as her father said, "We're glad to have you, Dudley. But why come at such an odd hour of the night?"

Dudley hung his head. "My Dad didn't want me to come and Dedalus said sneaking out on my own was dangerous. I thought this would be the safest time to come, so I asked Dedalus to bring me. Dad heard me leaving and grabbed my shirt to prevent me from coming when I stepped into the fireplace with Dedalus."

"Mr Diggle is correct, Dudley," Mr Weasley chided gently. "It is dangerous to be out alone anywhere these days. Now, how did you want to help us?"

Dudley raised his head and looked directly at Ginny. "However I can help, I will. I can help you find my cousin," he said quietly.

Ginny shouldered her way past Ron and George and walked up to Dudley. Smiling the first smile she had in days she said, "Thank you, Dudley. It means a lot to have you here."

"Good," Dudley said, returning the smile. He turned back to Dedalus. "Take my father back. I'm staying whether he likes it or not," he said.

"Yes, Dudley," Mr Diggle said, looking rather chagrined. "I'll have Hestia bring your things later on." And before Vernon Dursley had the chance to protest, Mr Diggle threw some Floo Powder into the grate and dragged him into the green flames.

"Well, that was interesting," George commented as he stepped forward with the rest of the family to greet Dudley. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw her mum sidle into the kitchen and turn on the kettle for tea.

"How did you know Harry was missing?" Ginny asked as she walked with Dudley to the kitchen table several minutes later.

Dudley eased his bulk onto the chair next to hers. "I heard Dedalus and Hestia talking several nights ago," he said, running a finger over the marks in the scrubbed wood of the table. "… And, I… Look, he's had a tough time of it. I just felt really bad for him."

Mrs Weasley levitated the family tea service onto the table. Dudley's eyes grew wide as the kettle sailed across the room and began pouring water into the big family tea pot. When the tea was ready, she asked, "Milk and sugar, Dudley?"

"Er… er… black… no, milk, please," Dudley said hesitantly. His eyes followed the milk pitcher as it rose and poured a measure into a mug which then floated to a stop in front of him. He hesitantly plucked it out of the air and took a sip. "This is good," he said. "Thanks." Mrs Weasley smiled and directed the rest of the mugs to her family.

The conversation drifted from topic to topic until Ron turned to Dudley and asked, "What do you know about Harry and Professor Dumbledore's disappearance?"

"Not much," Dudley answered. "Only that he and your headmaster were kidnapped near your school." He looked hopefully at Ron and Ginny. "Can you tell me more?"

Ron looked to their father before saying, "Yeah. Here's what we know…" Between the two of them, Ginny and Ron told Dudley what they knew of the kidnapping and its aftermath. As the rest of the story unfolded, various other Weasleys added their information until there was nothing left to tell.

"Blimey, you people have nutters just like we do!" Dudley exclaimed, shaking his head. He turned to Ginny. "You said Harry sent you some mental pictures of the terrain they were towing him over. Do you have a road map of Scotland handy?"

Mr Weasley answered with a shake of his head. "We don't, Dudley, just a relief map showing the elevations of the mountains."

Dudley smiled as he said, "I know how I can help. I think you need a road map with all the Scottish lakes and roads on it. Those maps usually have other information on them, too. I'd like to go into town and get one for you."

Mr Weasley looked at his assembled family. "That's as good an idea as any we've had so far," Fred said. "Harry's hints were good, but since he didn't know the names of the towns and lakes he was seeing, we've had to guess where to look."

"Have you been looking at the buildings?" Dudley asked.

"Like castles and stuff?" Ron asked.

"Yeah."

"Ginny said there was a white building on the shore of one of the lakes," Dudley said. "Was it in ruins or had it been restored?"

"Restored?" Mr Weasley asked.

"Uh-huh. Fixed up so people could live in it," Dudley explained.

"Dudley, dear," Mrs Weasley said, "most of the buildings Muggles consider ruins or run-down, unliveable dwellings we know to be fully inhabited."

Dudley's eyes grew wide. "No! Magic can conceal something like that?" he asked. "I bet you can find and conceal places like caves, too. Doesn't your government keep track of stuff like that?"

"That's the problem, Dudley," Mr Weasley said, stifling a yawn. "They do, but the Ministry of Magic won't let me use its resources to research the area where Harry was last seen. We've been conducting our own searches with what little information we have."

Dudley harrumphed. "Why won't they let you have access to the information you want?"

"In a word, politics," Mr Weasley said wearily. "Also, a lot of it is classified because many of those buildings are Unplottable."

"Unplottable?" Dudley asked, looking mystified.

"It means they can't be put on a map, dear," Mrs Weasley explained. "Some people don't want to be disturbed, so they conceal their buildings from prying eyes."

"I think I get it," Dudley said, shaking his head. Under his breath he murmured, "Weird."

Ginny and Ron hid their smirks as he continued aloud, "I think I can help you. I'll need to go into the nearest village. Will my mobile work in the house? I want to make some calls."

Ron answered, "No. If you're thinking of calling the Ottery St Catchpole taxi, you'll have to wait until seven when the taxi service opens up and then walk out to the road. Either that or we could just walk into the village."

"I'll try calling first," Dudley said. "It'll be faster."

Ginny kicked Ron under the table to get his attention. "How did you know that?" she whispered.

"Research," Ron answered vaguely and Ginny guessed it had something to do with transporting the two of them to King's Cross Station the next day. They both yawned at the same time. Mrs Weasley noticed and said, "There will be no calling of taxis until we've all had some sleep. Dudley, come with me and I'll show you to Percy's old room."

Ron grinned at Ginny as they followed their mum and Dudley up the stairs. "I think we might get somewhere with his help," Ron said hopefully under his breath.

"I hope you're right," she said, opening the door to her room. "I'm getting frustrated with how long this search is taking. Good night, Ron."

Dudley was gone when Ginny came downstairs several hours later. For the first time in a month she felt more rested with only a few hours' sleep than she had on the nights she had lain awake for hours. Over a large plate of bacon and eggs she listened raptly as Ron related the story of Dudley's departure.

"How long has he been gone?" Ginny asked when he finished.

Ron glanced at his watch. "Almost two hours. He didn't say how long he'd be gone, though," he commented as someone knocked on the front door.

Mrs Weasley went to the door, but didn't open it. "Who is there?" she called.

"Dudley Dursley," the newcomer answered.

"Who is your cousin and how did you help this summer?" she called back.

"I helped Harry Potter train on free weights."

Mrs Weasley opened the door and let Dudley in.

"What was all that about?" he demanded as soon as the door was closed.

"We have to be very careful who we let into our home," Ginny answered as Mrs Weasley walked past them, taking a load of laundry upstairs.

"Someone could have taken Polyjuice Potion and be pretending to be you," Ron explained. Dudley raised an eyebrow at Ginny and mouthed, "Polyjuice Potion?" to which she responded, "later," as Ron said, "The questions are for our safety as well as yours. You got off easy this time. Next time you'll have to ask the other person something that only you two know so that you'll know it's safe to enter."

"Makes sense," Dudley said, nodding. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two packets of folded paper which he spread out on the kitchen table. "Road map and attractions map. That one was hand drawn like a cartoon and won't be too accurate about the roads and distances, but it lists all the castles, lakes and caves we know about. It even has information on which castles are inhabited, which are ruins open to the public, and which ones have been turned into museums," he said, inviting Ginny and Ron to have a look. He pointed to a small lake in the middle of the attractions map. "Ginny, I'm guessing the lake with the big white building Harry flew over is Loch Earn. Here, have a look."

Ginny came round the table and peered at the attractions map and then at the road map, trying not to get her hopes up. She followed Dudley's finger, whispering to herself, "Three lakes: one with a mountain, one with a building, one with a village," and gasped as Harry's image nearly matched the picture on Dudley's maps.

"What is it?" Ron demanded.

"Go get Mum," Ginny whispered, groping for a chair. "I think Dudley found the first pictures Harry sent me."

Ron stared between Ginny and Dudley, his mouth hanging open. He closed it and, with a whoop, raced up the stairs to find their mother.

Dudley sank into the chair next to Ginny's. "Your dad said you don't have road maps," he observed. "Do w-wizards use a map?"

Ginny sighed, one eyebrow raise in Dudley's direction. "Not for every day stuff, no. We learn to read them before we go to Hogwarts and some of the professors make us use them for our school work, but on the whole, we don't need pictures of where we need to go. We either take the Floo Network or Apparate to the destination we're going to." When Dudley looked blank, she explained, "Disappear from one place and appear a moment or two later somewhere else."

"Then you miss all the good stuff," Dudley replied. "Half the fun of driving somewhere is seeing the scenery."

Ginny stared at Dudley in disbelief. Was this the same Dudley who had tormented Harry most of his life? Deciding this new Dudley would need some getting used to she said, "I see your point," as Ron and Mrs Weasley entered the kitchen.

"Is it true, you've found the right lake?" Mrs Weasley asked breathlessly.

Dudley stood and showed her the map as he had done with Ginny and Ron. "Bless you, Dudley," she said, opening her arms to embrace the startled boy. "Thank you."

Dudley awkwardly patted Mrs Weasley on the back. "You're welcome," he said as

Mrs Weasley released him.

"Oh my, I've got to tell Arthur," she said, sounding flustered. She bustled back upstairs and returned a few minutes later wearing an old Muggle dress and clutching a blue handbag that matched her shoes. "I shouldn't be gone more than a half hour. If anyone from the Order calls, tell them there is an emergency meeting at noon at headquarters."

"We will," Ron and Ginny said together as Mrs Weasley stepped into the fireplace.

No one stuck his or her head in their fire while Mrs Weasley was gone and with nothing really pressing to do but wait for their parents, Ginny and Ron started teaching Dudley to play Exploding Snap. Dudley, it turned out, was rather good at cards and he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely when Mr and Mrs Weasley returned.

"I'm going to make lunch early today," Mrs Weasley announced, walking into the kitchen and tying an apron around her middle. "Who wants corned beef sandwiches?"

"Not me," Ron said immediately.

"Then you'll just have to find something for yourself," she said, taking the left-over brisket out of storage and charming a knife and fork to cut thick slices. Ginny grinned as Dudley walked over to the counter to watch the sandwiches make and stack themselves on a platter while her mother turned her back to find the condiments and make tea for the meal.

After her parents left for the Order meeting, Ginny took a glass of pumpkin juice out to the garden to think and wait for what she knew would inevitably come. The overgrown flower beds were a riot of magical colour and the heady floral fragrance calmed her as she stepped through the gate and walked over to her favourite bench and sat down. She hadn't been there very long before the gate creaked open again. She looked up, startled to see Dudley striding up the path towards her.

"It's nice out here," he said, taking a seat on the opposite end of the bench. "My mum's garden on Privet Drive wasn't like this at all."

"How so?" Ginny asked.

"It was always so perfect."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked. She spied a gnome and pointed it out to Dudley.

He peered at it curiously.

"Too clean. One of the things she always made Harry responsible for was the weeding, pruning and mowing of her garden. Harry went without meals a lot when we were younger because Mum was never satisfied with what he did," Dudley admitted. "She never made me do any of the work Harry had to do and I'm beginning to realize just how hard she and my dad were on him." His voice was barely a whisper as he said, "I don't like how that makes me feel." He pulled a long blade of grass from between the bricks in the path and began shredding it.

Ginny remained silent; she had heard admissions like this from her brothers over the years and knew how important it was to just lend her ear. Besides, she wanted to hear what else Dudley had to say.

Finally, Dudley cleared his throat. "Mum would have a coronary if she'd seen something in her garden like that," he said, looking up at the funny little creature.

Ginny chuckled. "Our garden's full of gnomes. When we were little, Mum would punish us by sending my brothers and me out here to degnome it. Fred and George always thought it fun to do something bad enough to make her send them out here," she answered. "They made a game of it, tried to see who could throw the gnomes the furthest. They still do." Dudley raised an eyebrow, so she explained, "Mum still makes them degnome whenever we're having company even if they're living over their shop half the time."

"Sounds like fun," Dudley said. He was silent for a time as they watched the gnome strip the leaves off a weed and stuff them in its mouth. His voice, when he finally spoke, was so soft Ginny had to strain to hear it. "Does she… does your mum… does she always hug people like that?"

The question struck Ginny as somewhat odd, but she answered truthfully. "Yeah, she does. She wouldn't be Mum if she didn't."

Dudley rose and crept closer to the gnome. It ignored him and pulled up another weed. "It felt nice," he said without turning around. He cleared his throat. "She could join the wrestling team at my school. With a hug like that she'd win every match."

Ginny giggled. "Yeah, she probably would," she said to cover up what she really was thinking; that Petunia Dursley's hugs had to have been very perfunctory if her own son found them lacking to Molly Weasley's. The thought made her sad. She changed the subject. "When does your school start?"

"Don't know," Dudley answered. "I doubt if I'll be going back to Smeltings. Things weren't all that good for me last term and, now that we've gone into hiding, I haven't received any of the letters that usually come during the summer."

"Do you want to go back?" Ginny asked, crouching next to him. The gnome eyed them warily.

Dudley sat back on his heels and finally looked at her. "I do, but I don't. It's my last year there, but I dunno what I want to do after I leave school. The teachers all started pestering me about my future at the end of last term. I don't think I could stand another year of that."

Ginny thought about how conflicted Ron was over what he wanted to do with the rest of his life as she said, "You're not the only one, Dudley. Ron still doesn't know whether he's going to try out for professional Quidditch or go to Auror school. I think it really depends on whether the war is still going on next summer." She sighed. "I think Harry was, I mean, _is_ the same. The Wizarding world is so full of contradictions right now it's really hard to know where we'll be in six months."

Dudley inhaled to respond, but Ginny tuned him out as she suddenly clutched her head and fell to the ground. Her wait was over: Harry was sending her painful, pain-filled thoughts and as he screamed, so did she. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of bits of conversation with his parents, fear of his captors and a cry for help that tore at her insides, making her wonder what the hell the Death Eaters were doing to him.

"Ginny! GINNY!" Dudley's voice sounded panicked as the stream of images and thoughts lessened and finally stopped. She opened her eyes to see him bending over her, a look of sheer terror on his face. "What's wrong?" he asked.

She sat up shakily, picking grass and leaves out of her hair. "I'm really sorry about that, Dudley," she apologized.

"What's going on? You seemed fine a couple of minutes ago."

"I told you about my bond with Harry, right?" When he nodded, she went on. "Every day, about this time, Harry transmits his thoughts to me. I don't think he knows he's even doing it. This last month he's been sending me more than just those pictures of the lakes. My guess is that the Death Eaters are torturing him in some way and whatever they're doing finally pushes him into reacting." She stopped and rubbed her forehead which throbbed at an irregular pace. "It's usually not this bad."

"Can you feel it?"

"What, the torture?" she asked. "Not really. It's mostly Harry's reaction to it."

"Then what made you scream like that?"

"Harry was screaming," she said quietly, unwilling to say more. She stood up, feeling suddenly restless. Spying the gnome they'd been watching earlier, Ginny had an idea. Turning to Dudley she asked, "Want to learn how to degnome the garden?"

Surprised, Dudley said, "All right," and within minutes the air was full of flying gnomes. As they worked, Ginny began to feel a little better.

Ron came out to join them when Dudley hurled a gnome farther than Fred's longest recorded toss. "Can you do that again?" he asked, grabbing a gnome of his own and whirling it over his head. The creature let out a squeal of profanity as it sailed over the fence and half-way into the field.

"Sure," Dudley said. "It's good accuracy practice." He grabbed a gnome by the leg and whirled it overhead, a look of great concentration on his face. He let go and the gnome went sailing out of the garden to land just shy of his first toss.

"Brilliant!" Ron commented as they continued searching for more of the pesky little creatures.

Dudley beamed. "Thanks."

There were enough gnomes in the garden to keep the three busy until Mr and Mrs Weasley returned at half four from the Order meeting. As Ginny and Mrs Weasley set about making an early dinner, Fred and George tumbled through the fireplace followed by Bill and Fleur who had just recently returned from their honeymoon in the Hebrides. The four stood around the hearth brushing the soot from their clothes as her father and Dudley walked over to greet the newcomers. It always amused Ginny to watch her father introduce people to each other.

"Just in time," Mr Weasley said. He turned to Dudley. "You haven't met my oldest son, Bill and his wife, Fleur. This is Dudley Dursley."

"You're Harry's cousin." Bill offered his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Dudley. What brings you to The Burrow?"

"I'm helping with Harry's rescue," Dudley said, sounding important.

"He found the lake with the white building on it," Ginny called from her place at the counter where she was hand-slicing carrots.

"So we 'eard at the meeting," Fleur said. "Dudley, you 'ave done a great zing for zee Order. Your information has 'elped us narrow our search area. Thank you."

Dudley's eyes widened. "It has?"

"Absolutely," Bill said, pulling out a chair at the table. "The first search group will go out at midnight tonight."

Ginny stopped slicing. "Will you and Fleur be going out?" she asked nervously.

"Not for a few days," Fleur answered, looking pointedly at Bill. "We must set up 'ouse first. Zere is so much unpacking to do."

"Do you want some help?" Ginny asked, not really thinking about what she was asking.

Her mother dropped her cauldron of self-stirring gravy and whirled to face her. "If you think you're going out on one of the searches or even helping Bill and Fleur," Mrs Weasley said, pointing her wand at Ginny, "you'd better get that notion out of your head, young lady. You're going back to Hogwarts tomorrow to be where you belong."

Ginny looked at the mess, feeling contrite. "Sorry, Mum," she mumbled, reaching for a rag to start cleaning up. "I wasn't thinking about what I was saying."

Mrs Weasley flicked her wand and the cauldron righted itself. The spilled gravy vanished, leaving a clean spot on the floor in front of the cooker. "I'm not thinking very clearly myself," she said as she put her arm around Ginny's shoulders. "I know you aren't looking forward to tomorrow and it's going to be hard for your dad and me to have you so far away. Hopefully, with Dudley's help, we'll put an end to this horrible waiting game we're going through sooner than we would have done otherwise. I'm sorry I snapped."

Ginny smiled and looked at her assembled family. "You're forgiven, Mum, but only if you help me finish dinner for this hungry lot."

"I think I can do that," Mrs Weasley said. "Shall we ask Fleur to help?"

"Only if you have her make the salad," Ginny said so only her mother could hear. "Otherwise we'll still be cooking when the sun goes down and I'm not sure Dudley and the twins can wait that long."

Mrs Weasley chuckled and turned back to her cauldron. She and Ginny had the food floating to the table within twenty minutes and soon everyone was helping themselves to baked chicken, creamed potatoes and glazed carrots.

**oOo**

Later that evening, after the dishes had been done, Ginny slipped out of the lounge and away from her family. Her forehead still throbbed and occasionally one of Harry's thoughts or an image would pop into her head and she decided it was just too much trouble to try hiding her discomfort from the others. Her only thought was to close herself in her bedroom and suffer in solitude.

She had just reached her door when someone called softly, "Ginny, hold on!"

Turning towards the sound, she saw Dudley standing on the landing below. "What is it, Dudley?"

"Is your head still bothering you?" he asked.

She nodded and sat down on the top step. "Yeah, it is."

"I'm sorry about that." Dudley ascended the stairs and they sat next to her. "Have you seen or felt anything specific?"

"No. I just know Harry's terrified and half-delirious. The Death Eaters are doing something awful to him, Dudley, but he's not giving me any clues to where he is or what they're doing to him. I feel so helpless," she half-sobbed, holding her throbbing head. "I don't want to go back to Hogwarts tomorrow, but I know I have to."

Dudley didn't respond right away. Finally he said, "If it's any consolation I'll try to write as much as I can. Maybe by keeping each other informed we'll be able to bring Harry back here sooner."

Ginny stared at him in the semi-darkness. "Thanks. I'll write back to you, too." She stood up and opened her door. "I'll see you in the morning. Good-night, Dudley."

"Good night, Ginny."

**End of Chapter Sixteen**

**A/N:** Some of you have been wondering when Dudley will show up. Well, now you know and from now on, he appears with some regularity, mostly in the Ginny chapters, until Harry is rescued. I hope you continue to enjoy this new, more mature version of JKR's character.

My list of thank yous seems to have grown a little longer with this chapter. Jedi34 has joined my pre-beta team and along with GhostWriter, has found all the little quirks and mistakes that needed to be taken care of before I sent the final version to my beta for final approval. Thank you two for your suggestions and grammatical help that polished this chapter and made my beta's job a little less arduous. Aggiebell, thanks for making me take a look at the timeline for this chapter. A second look is always good and helps to clarify things; I was happy to do that. Thank you, too, for all the nice comments and suggestions. Finally, to my readers, I hope you liked this episode enough to let me know your opinions. No matter whether you offer praise or constructive criticism, I always write back.


	17. 17 Dumbledore Shares His Secrets

**Chapter 17: Dumbledore Shares His Secrets**

**Captured, Part 2**

Tears cascaded down Harry's cheeks as he thought of their capture. Guilt ate at him as he lay still and silent in the dark; he had failed. He rubbed at the sore spot on his forehead, trying to make the sensation of dripping water go away. He wanted to be free of the feeling, but unless someone discovered the cave soon there would be no relief.

The Death Eaters always took Dumbledore away as they threw Harry back in the cell and left him to his thoughts in the darkness…

_I failed… I didn't fight hard enough… I failed to protect Dumbledore, failed to get us to safety. I only succeeded in getting us captured. _ These and other equally depressing thoughts had been his constant companions since the kidnapping. _I'll never see Ginny again… or if I do, she'll pity me… She pities cowards and failures like me… I'm only fit to be killed by Voldemort._

What mystified Harry (on the rare occasions when he was thinking straight these days) was that his captors had yet to take him to Voldemort, nor had they tried very hard to extract information from him, as he had expected them to do. They weren't given to employing the normal methods of Death Eater torture, either. No one had levelled the Cruciatus Curse at Harry since that first day, leaving his body remarkably untouched except for raw patches on his wrists and ankles, the results of the hours he was forcibly restrained.

As it was, time had ceased to exist because Harry and Dumbledore were seldom let out of the dark. If they were, they were blindfolded, magically immobilized if they tried to put up a fight, and brought to another dimly lit chamber, which Harry had learned to dread more than the solitude of the cell.

Only two Death Eaters had abused him physically, although there was a possibility that there was a third; Bellatrix Lestrange had come to the cave at least once to watch his "interrogation sessions" and had left abruptly when she wasn't allowed to Cruciate him. In the meantime, Harry had come to fear being led or floated away from his cell by Carrow and Peter Pettigrew, whose love of physical violence made his existence as nearly unbearable as the hours he spent alone in the dank room that was his torture chamber. Harry's puffy face and mouth full of broken teeth testified to his sessions with them.

The first time he had been taken to the chamber, however, the Death Eaters had not blindfolded him. They had forced him to walk on his own with his hands secured magically behind his back. They had wanted him to see what was in store for him from an upright position, to punish him as Voldemort had punished them.

"The Dark Lord doesn't take kindly to those who disappoint him," snarled Peter Pettigrew, who held Harry in the vice-like grip of his silver hand.

"He punished those in charge here severely, as well as those on the flight," added a Death Eater who sounded suspiciously like Marcus Flint. "Now it's your turn."

They had taken Harry to a side chamber; he could hear a dripping sound before they entered. The little group had paused just inside the entrance so that Harry could see the entire layout of the room. At first, it looked like an ordinary cave lit by a solitary torch; then Harry took a second look. Several huge, dripping stalactites hung from the ceiling. Except for a large wooden table which had been tipped on its side, the chamber was bare of furniture.

Harry stared at the table, apprehension turning his insides to mush; something about it filled him with dread. The table was a large rectangle, tall enough to stretch a man to his full height with his arms over his head. Iron rings had been set into the tabletop at regular intervals. His stomach churned as he wondered what they were going to do to him. He wrenched his arm out of Flint's grasp and tried to escape. He didn't get very far.

"Behave, Potter!" commanded Pettigrew. He tightened his grip on Harry's arm and smashed his fist into his nose. Blood spurted everywhere as Harry's face exploded with pain.

Seizing the opportunity, Pettigrew and Flint shoved Harry towards the wooden table. Harry kicked and flailed about, trying to get loose, screaming with frustration as his efforts proved vain. Pettigrew raised his fist and smashed it into Harry's face again, while Flint applied a Sticking Charm to fix Harry's back to the table and chains sprang from within the tabletop to encircle his torso, effectively extinguishing any hope of escape. The Death Eaters righted the table, and then grunting with the effort of restraining him, roughly positioned his arms and legs under the iron rings; at a tap of a wand, iron leg and arm restraints emerged from the tabletop and secured Harry to the table.

"Careful, Potter, or you'll end up with a face full of water for your efforts," Flint snarled maliciously. Harry lay still, fear now knotting his stomach as blood from his nose ran down his face.

Once Harry was restrained, the table was pushed under one of the dripping stalactites. As the Death Eaters lowered an oval-shaped hoop with a chin restraint across one end over Harry's head, a huge drop of water hit the top of Harry's forehead. The icy water caused him to squirm uncontrollably.

"Thought you'd like that," Flint snickered. He clamped the contraption at Harry's chin in place with a tap of his wand and did the same with the curved bar encircling the top of Harry's head. Laughing at Harry's discomfort, the Death Eaters positioned the table so that the water dripped directly onto the centre of Harry's forehead and left the room, shutting the wooden door with an ominous bang.

Left alone and once again unable to move, Harry could only close his eyes and count the seconds between drips.

That was precisely what he was doing now. The stalactite he'd been positioned under dripped erratically, sending a large drop of water down on the exact same spot on Harry's forehead every four to ten seconds. At first, the dripping was only a small annoyance, but as time wore on, it began to frustrate him no end. _Get me out of this thing!_ he cried within his mind.

The drops were large and heavy and icy, and they caused the skin on Harry's face to become cold almost immediately. The cold seeped into the rest of his body. He shivered uncontrollably as little rivulets began running down his forehead and through his hair. He longed to wipe the water from his eyes, to scratch the itching sensation in his scalp, but the restraints and Sticking Charm prevented all movement. Within minutes, a pool formed underneath his head and began soaking the back of his shirt. His shivering increased. His bladder reacted to the drips, embarrassing him greatly – an added amusement for the Death Eaters whenever they came to take him back to his cell.

Harry began marking his time in captivity by the number of times he was taken to the water room. The Death Eaters usually left him bound to the table for hours. The tension of waiting for the next drop to fall caused his body to ache continuously. The table dug into his back and shoulder blades; no matter how much he squirmed or shifted he could never alleviate the discomfort. Not long after being put into the restraints, Harry's arms and hands would numb. But the most painful of all were his shoulders which would throb for hours after the Death Eaters released him from the table.

And as each ache made itself known, Harry's anxiety increased exponentially. He wanted the dripping to stop. He wanted the pain in his limbs to end. He wanted to be taken off the table and allowed back in his cell. Wild thoughts began whirling around in his head as he waited… and waited… and waited for the next tormenting drop to descend from the tip of the stalactite. When it came, he screamed. The sound reverberated around the chamber. Another drip. More screaming. He screamed until he could scream no more, but the water kept up its silent, maddening drip.

And Harry, now so frustrated with it all, began to cry so that his tears mingled with the cold water as it dripped… and dripped… and dripped.

"I can't take this any longer!" Harry yelled at the room during one particularly bad session.

"You don't have to, son." The woman's voice was gentle.

Harry's eyes shot open. Her blurry image swam before his eyes and he croaked, "Mum."

"Oh, my darling. My brave, brave boy," Lily Potter murmured. "You're enduring this ordeal with such strength. I'm so proud of you."

Lily Potter's words were balm to Harry's troubled mind. "Thank you," he whispered. "I'm so glad you're with me."

Lily reached behind her and held out a hand to a man with Harry's messy black hair, a pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose. "James," she said, "Come see what a brave young man our Harry has become."

Harry couldn't believe his luck. "Dad."

James took his place next to Lily. "I'm here. Hang in there, Harry. You can survive anything the Death Eaters do to you. I know you can."

Harry searched his father' face, feeling encouraged, but still very doubtful that he could hold on to his sanity. "It's so hard, Dad. I don't know how much longer I can continue," he confessed.

James smiled sadly. "I know it is, but you're a Potter and a Gryffindor, Harry. You are as brave a man as there ever was." He glanced at Lily. "We will be with you whenever you need us. You deserve what little supp—"

WHAM! Carrow's blow to Harry's jaw rattled his teeth and sent pain shooting through his head. Harry's parents dissolved into nothingness, leaving him quaking and cowering in his restraints.

"You're just as worthless as that old man! You both are cowards, good-for-nothings! How dare you block us from your thoughts!" he screeched. Harry shrank from Carrow's fist as much as the head restraint would allow.

Several sessions after that one, Harry's mind reacted similarly to the constant drip, drip, dripping. This time, Sirius swam into his consciousness.

"Harry, I'm here," he said. "James and Lily thought you'd like to have me with you."

Sirius's presence calmed Harry, just as his parents' visit had. "I need you, Sirius. Stay with me, please," he pleaded.

"I'll be here as long as I'm able," Sirius told him. He stayed with Harry until the Death Eaters appeared to take Harry back to his cell.

As the Death Eaters left, Harry heard one mutter, "He's nearly ready. The hallucinations are a very good sign. We will begin the assault in a day or two."

The other replied, "Very well. I will notify the Dark Lord."

Harry, feeling abandoned and scared, sank into unconsciousness as Sirius slipped away.

And now, Harry was once again enduring the aggravating, painful dripping of the stalactite. The pain in his shoulders, arms, and back rivalled that of his continuously prickling scar and the bloody hole that had appeared in the middle of his forehead. He'd almost given up hope of ever being rescued and today, when his captors had come to get him, he had retreated into himself almost immediately.

_Harry… Harry, love… Are you there?_

The mental contact startled Harry. He groaned and automatically responded, _I'm here, Ginny. _

_Good. We're trying to rescue you._

_Hurry, please! I don't know how much more of this dripping I can stand…_

_They're not hurting you with spells?_

_No, just water._

The voice changed cruelly. _Then, you'll just have to tell us what you were doing at Godric's Hollow that day…_

Harry's eyes flew open and as he did so, he felt a forcefully digging Legilimency spell probing in his mind.

"No!" he yelled, wrenching his eyes from the masked Death Eater standing next to his table. "You can't have my thoughts!"

A fist smashed into Harry's mouth. "You will be silent!" the Death Eater ordered, levelling his wand."_Silencio!_" Then the head of the table tipped towards the floor.

Fear flooded through Harry as he tried to call up his Occlumency shield, tried desperately to find the comfort spot in his mind he was so dependent on these days. The Death Eater cast the Legilimency spell again. The presence of the magical barrier in Harry's mind angered the man who hit him again and threw a heavy wet cloth over his entire face.

"_AGUAMENTI!" _ The spell was yelled with ferocity and hate and Harry fought for air as a tidal wave of water suddenly crashed over his head.

He panicked. He couldn't breathe; water poured through the cloth into his mouth and nose and just as he thought he was going to pass out, it stopped, leaving him gasping and shivering and very much aware that he had almost drowned.

"_Finite Incantatem," _the voice said, silky and full of menace, as the Death Eater lifted the silencing spell._ "_Are you ready to tell us what you were looking for the day you were in Godric's Hollow?"

"On… on… my birthday outing," Harry sputtered just before more water drenched him a second time. He felt himself slipping from consciousness.

A new voice suddenly cut through the water and Harry's foggy brain. "ENOUGH! Step away from the prisoner. He is to remain conscious; you needn't drown a confession from him," barked the new voice. It sounded like Yaxley's. "Take him back to his cell. We have been summoned."

The cloth was removed from Harry's face, but the head, arm and leg restraints remained in place. Two more huge drops hit the sore spot on Harry's face and he began to cry; he couldn't help it. He wanted out of the restraints, out of the dark, out of the cave.

And as he lay on the table, Harry made a conscious decision: he would erect an inner wall around his mind and hide behind it. That was the best course of action to preserve what was left of his sanity until he was rescued. It would infuriate the Death Eaters, but that was just another thing he would have to endure. As the Death Eaters dragged him off the table and back to the cell he still shared with Dumbledore, Harry fitted the last few bricks in his Occlumency wall and withdrew from reality.

**oOo**

"Harry, wake up."

Dumbledore's anxious whisper penetrated Harry's new defences and he knew he was back in the cell. There was something in the old man's voice that made him sit up too quickly. Pain lanced through his scar and jaw and he spat a glob of blood mixed with fragments of a shattered tooth onto the floor. He sat, holding his aching head, as Dumbledore offered him a cup of water.

"Thanks," he said gratefully. He took a small sip and immediately began to wretch.

Dumbledore's whisper was full of concern. "What have they done to you?"

Shuddering at the memories, Harry explained the Death Eaters' newest method of torture. When he finished, Dumbledore did something he'd never, ever done before; he hugged Harry. The simple gesture reminded him of the hugs he used to receive from Mrs Weasley and he broke down, sobbing into the Headmaster's shoulder. They held each other for a long time.

Finally Dumbledore said, "Harry, your wet clothes are making me cold and I imagine you are none too comfortable. Please allow me to dry you off."

Harry could only nod as he straightened up. A moment later, he felt the water leave his clothes and hair. He sighed as a warming spell suffused his body with healing warmth and a healing spell numbed the throbbing parts of his face, except for the dull, thudding pain in his scar. "Thank you, sir," he said gratefully.

Dumbledore laid a shaking hand on Harry's shoulder. "I am so sorry that this has happened to you," he said gravely. "It is my fault you are here. I should have had more faith in you that day and had you Apparate me back to Hogwarts, no matter how bad I was feeling. Instead, I was selfish and now our brooms are gone and we are in this hell hole."

"Yes, we're here," Harry responded, "but what I saw on my birthday is what keeps me sane when I'm strapped to that infernal table. I'm glad we had that day together, Professor." His throat began to constrict and he swallowed hard; he hadn't heard Dumbledore sound this tired since that weekend in the hospital wing. It scared him. "Even if we never get out of here alive I have you to thank for giving me a glimpse of the life I could have had, had my parents lived. It means a lot." He scrambled to his feet, feeling the need to pace away the depressing thoughts that had begun ricocheting through his mind.

"Harry," Dumbledore's voice made him stop pacing, for the soft tone was laced with emotion. "We need to talk. Are you up to it?"

Harry had only heard Professor Dumbledore use this tone of voice one other time, on the night Sirius had fallen through the Veil and Dumbledore had revealed the contents of the Prophecy. "What is it, Professor?"

Dumbledore waited to speak until Harry was again sitting beside him. "I am dying. The stress of captivity has reactivated the curse, Harry, and it is quickly taking over my body. I need to warn you that I may not be conscious for much longer. Professor Snape was correct when he told us the curse would attack the body but not the mind. Every day I am weaker; I can feel the curse eating at the inside of my body and often the pain is almost more than I can stand."

Harry sagged against the wall feeling horribly bereft. "Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked bleakly.

"Yes, Harry, there is much you can do for me, but I must first explain the nature of this curse so that you understand what is happening to me." He paused, breathing deeply, as if fighting his own emotions. "I cannot say this any other way: the pain I am feeling is the curse consuming my magic. Every day it eats away at my power, making every spell an excruciating experience."

Harry raised an eyebrow, even though he knew Professor Dumbledore couldn't see the gesture. "When have you tried magic here?"

"Every day I have warmed myself with simple charms, purified our water and dried your clothes when you came back from the water chamber," Dumbledore said. He sighed and leaned against the wall, his shoulder touching Harry's; the contact seemed to comfort him as much as it did Harry. "The spells take more effort each day."

"How?"

A feeble light flared in the dark, filling the space between the two wizards. It came from a tiny wand, one just big enough to fit in a pocket. Dumbledore grinned boyishly at him as he whispered conspiratorially, "A present from Fred and George Weasley when I visited their shop on Opening day. It is one of their non-Summon-able, undetectable defensive products, available only to the Aurors, and very hush-hush. They call this limited-use wand 'The Captive's Companion'. It can be used to cast five hundred spells. They have no idea how useful their invention is to me."

Harry's smile mirrored Dumbledore's. "Brilliant," he murmured.

"I quite agree." Dumbledore's smile slipped as he said, "But now to business. Any questions so far?"

Harry collected his thoughts. "Is the curse why you were so reluctant to Apparate that… that afternoon?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, it is. I regret deeply that I did not trust you that day. If I had, we would be free and I would only have become briefly ill, but could have recovered under Madam Pomfrey's care. Now I cannot. I can feel the curse taking over my body, rendering me helpless with the power it has taken from me."

"You said I could help—"

"Patience, please, Harry," Dumbledore admonished quietly. "We'll get to that." He regarded Harry for a time, his face sombre in the dim light. Finally, he said, "I am afraid that very shortly I will have no magic left at all."

"How can you say that?" Harry interrupted again.

"The evidence is the effort it took me to cast the three spells to make you comfortable a little while ago," Dumbledore continued. "They have weakened me further. I know very soon I will have only the power of a first year; not long after that I will be no better than a Squib.

"Harry, if we are found, please have our rescuers take me back to Hogwarts. It is my dying wish to be there when I go on to my next great adventure. I know that even if nobody is looking for me, the Weasley family is doing all it can to find you. When they do, they'll find me, whatever condition I'm in. My request is that you help me stay alive until we are rescued. I… I… I want to die a free man. Can you do that for me?"

Gulping down a new flood of panic, Harry whispered, "Yes, I will."

"Good. I know you will." Dumbledore extinguished the wand. Harry heard the rustle of cloth as Dumbledore secreted it inside his robes again. There was a smile in his voice as he continued, "I know from our sessions together that you have begun using wandless magic. I need you to begin practicing certain spells."

"Which ones?"

"Miss Granger's Bluebell flame charm for the present. Do you know it?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, she taught it to both Ron and me," Harry answered.

"Will you conjure some now, please?"

It felt good to use his magic for something other than keeping the Death Eaters out of his mind; he wondered why he hadn't thought to try simple spells wandlessly until now. Harry's Bluebell flames sparkled into brilliance and for the second time since their kidnapping, Harry and Dumbledore looked at each other. Dumbledore smiled. So did Harry. Dumbledore located the cup of water he had given Harry earlier and the younger wizard laid the ball of flame inside it. As they put their fire between them and held up their hands to its warmth, Harry commented, "I'm feeling much clearer-headed than I was in the dark. I'm not as anxious… or scared… as I was when they brought me back."

"Light and warmth are essential for our happiness, Harry. Men were not meant to live in the dark," Dumbledore said knowingly. "You have had terrible experiences since our capture that have taken light and heat from you. It is natural to feel uplifted by even this tiniest source and I urge you to use these Flames to help you stay sane once I am no longer coherent." He cleared his throat, his blue eyes searching Harry's green ones over the tiny fire. "Once I am incapable of doing magic, I will need you to care for me. Professor Snape gave me a supply of the potion he used to revive me when I became ill in July. The day we went to Godric's Hollow I had several doses with me because I must take the potion every twelve hours and I did not know how long we would be gone. Like the wand, the Death Eaters did not find them, thank goodness."

Harry interrupted, "How have you kept track…"

Again, Dumbledore smiled. "I have been observant, Harry. The Death Eaters change shifts twice a day. Our food and water, such as they are, are brought half way through each shift. I know that we are lightly guarded; most likely, spells have been cast on the hallway and the cell door, because I always hear muttering just before someone approaches."

"So there's no hope of escape?" Harry asked.

"No, I do not think there is, but I also think the charms will alert any rescuers that they have found the correct cell. Do you agree?"

Harry nodded, feeling bleak again.

Dumbledore seemed to sense Harry's preoccupation and inhaled to speak just as footsteps and muttering came from the other side of the cell door. The two prisoners extinguished their fire and lay down, Harry feigning sleep. Through narrowed eyes, he watched the door open just enough for the Death Eater to shove two bowls and a pitcher inside the cell. The dishes left from their last meal were then levitated out the door, which closed with a slurping sound.

When he was certain they were alone again, Harry approached the food and conjured the Bluebell Flame again; he was appalled at the sight of the rancid food they had been given to eat. The greenish water in the jug was no better.

He turned to Dumbledore. "I can't eat this," he said, holding up one of the bowls.

"You won't have to once I teach you the proper charms, Harry. Bring our meal here, please."

Harry did what he was told as Dumbledore took out the tiny wand. He handed it to Harry saying, "The spell is _'Purgo'. _It gets rid of toxic moulds and bacteria that have been added to the food, although it does nothing for the taste. You can also use it to purify our water."

Harry repeated the spell several times in his head before handing the wand back to Dumbledore. "I want to try it wandlessly. It will save on the number of casts I use the wand for if I can do it that way." He raised his hand over the bowls. "How do I know if the spell has worked?"

"There will be changes," Dumbledore said enigmatically. Harry couldn't help smiling; his headmaster seemed to be at his teaching best at the moment.

He cast the spell, hoping for a flash of coloured light or a sound of some sort. He was rewarded by a slight rattling of the bowls. Holding the cup of fire over the food, he peered into the bowls; the mould was gone from the chunks of meat and the broth at the bottom seemed less murky; he hoped it would be more palatable than it looked. He cast the same spell on the jug. When he held it to his nose, no funny odour assailed his nostrils and when poured, the water was clear.

"Nicely done, Harry," Dumbledore beamed. "Now we must transfigure the food into something more palatable. It's already a stew of sorts, so let's try to improve upon what we have." He taught Harry two new incantations—one a liquefying spell for later, the other a transfiguration spell—which he again practiced before casting the transfiguration spell upon their meal. He was less successful at this and apologized profusely to Dumbledore.

The old wizard looked at him with a kindly expression. "My dear boy, you have done more with this meal than I had hoped. With practice, you will become better at creating palatable meals. You have done well this first time," he said as he took a small vial of brown liquid from his robes. "Now I must take my potion and you must cast a wandless Refilling Charm on the vial afterwards." He quickly downed it, leaving a little at the bottom. He held it up to show Harry. "That should be enough. If you will kindly Refill the vial we can eat our meal."

Even with the decontamination and transfiguration charms Harry could barely swallow the food. _Maybe it will be better liquefied, _he thought as he tried that spell. It wasn't. He finally resorted to holding his nose as he swallowed which made his companion chuckle and thank him for finding some humour in their situation. When they were done eating, Harry took the bowls over to the door and they each cleansed their palates with a long drink.

"There are two last things we must discuss before I sleep, Harry," Dumbledore said finally. At Harry's questioning look he said, "I have named you as one of the recipients of my will. Please do not argue with me about this for there are specific reasons you must have these things. First, you will receive the sword of Godric Gryffindor. He is an ancestor of mine and the sword has been handed down in my family for many generations, just as you inherited your Invisibility Cloak from your father." He sighed sadly. "My brother, Aberforth, has no desire to own the sword and I know you are a worthy owner for such a valuable relic. In addition, we have already put the sword to good use. You may need it again.

"I am also bequeathing you my Pensieve."

Harry immediately protested, "But I have one, sir. I don't need another."

Smiling feebly, Dumbledore said, "Right now, the one you have is adequate, but as you get older you will be happy to have the larger vessel."

"Very well," Harry said, resignedly. "Thank you. I hope I'm worthy of these gifts."

"You are, Harry. And I now must ask one last favour of you. There is some information that I must ask you to guard with your life. We cannot talk about this openly, especially in here. May I…" he seemed nervous about asking his question, "May I give you the information using reverse Legilimency?"

The request caught Harry off guard. "Will it hurt?" he reluctantly asked.

"I know the Death Eaters have been very forceful with you and I promise to be gentle for I want you to accept this information willingly. If you feel any discomfort, I will withdraw and we can try again later," Professor Dumbledore said. "May we begin?"

Harry briefly closed his eyes, stifling the urge to scream and fight against Dumbledore's request. The thought of anyone intruding in his mind, even gently, was sending him into full-blown panic. "One minute, please," he gasped, struggling to control his breathing.

"Harry, if it's too much we can leave it for another time," Dumbledore said gently.

"No, sir," he said, still breathing hard. "I know this… is important… and your spell… will not be at all… like what the… Death Eaters have been subjecting me to."

Dumbledore laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, lending him support. The contact was immensely helpful and soon Harry felt more in control. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes and steadying himself for what was to come. "I'm ready," he finally whispered.

"Please look at me, Harry. It is the only way I can transfer the information."

Harry raised his head and looked directly into Professor Dumbledore's eyes. A second later, a steady stream of images, sensations and even smells began filtering past his consciousness. He was thankful that it didn't hurt; some of the more pleasant memories even lifted his spirits a little.

When they were done, Dumbledore said shakily, "I tried my best not to damage your mind or cause you any emotional distress. Are you all right?"

"Yes, sir, I am… and thank you. You were true to your word. I'll guard this with all that I am," Harry said bravely.

"I am glad," Dumbledore murmured quietly. The spell seemed to have made him very tired for he lay down next to the little Bluebell Flame and closed his eyes.

Harry extinguished the fire and then scooted along the floor until his leg bumped into Dumbledore. As he lifted the old wizard's head into his lap, Harry felt him sigh and relax. The two remained in this position until the changing of their guard signalled that another session in the water room for Harry was upon him, and as the Death Eaters dragged him out of the cell, he wondered if the Legilimency spell was Dumbledore's last.

Forty-eight hours later, by Harry's calculations, Dumbledore slipped into unconsciousness, leaving Harry feeling very much alone. His grief made his torture sessions almost unbearable and he cried out aloud, and in his mind to Ginny, almost as soon as the water began dripping upon his forehead. The only thing that kept him from withdrawing permanently behind his Occlumency shield was his promise to Dumbledore; Harry kept it faithfully, caring for him as best he could, and hoping against hope that what he was doing would keep the old wizard alive until they were found.

**End of Chapter Seventeen**

**A/N:** Many thanks to Aggiebell, my beta, for encouraging me to make this chapter more magic-friendly. I also thank jedi34 and GhostWriter for their pre-beta help as well as Melindaleo for her suggestions as to where new magic could be inserted into the chapter. You're all wonderful friends and I appreciate it that you all are interested in helping me to make my story the best it can be.

If you are interested in more information on the type of torture Harry is subjected to in this chapter, you may view this video, Myth Busters-Water Torture link, on YouTube: www. youtube watch?v = wFFslAjUyj4


	18. 18 Hogwarts Again

**Chapter Eighteen: Hogwarts Again**

Hermione met Ginny, Ron and Mrs Weasley outside King's Cross Station about twenty minutes before the train was due to depart for Hogwarts. As soon as they stepped onto Platform Nine and three-quarters they knew something was not right. Instead of the bustling confusion Ginny usually associated with leaving for school, the platform was nearly silent. A bone-deep chill had turned the steam from the engine into a thick fog, and as they approached the coaches a Dementor loomed out of the mist.

For Ginny, this introduction to her sixth year at Hogwarts was pure torture; between the memories of Tom Riddle's treachery and her recent experiences with Harry's petrified pleading, she froze on the spot. She felt so weak and shaky it took the combined urging of Ron, Hermione and Mrs Weasley to actually get her on the train.

"Ron, you and Hermione go and find a compartment. I'll stay with Ginny until one of you comes back to show her where to go," Mrs Weasley said as she fished in her bag for the bar of chocolate she kept for emergencies.

Five minutes later, Ron came back and reported that Neville and Luna had been saving a compartment for them at the back of the train.

Ginny looked at her mother. "I'll be all right, Mum," she assured her. "I'm feeling better already."

Looking reluctant to leave, Mrs Weasley said, "I hope so. Ron, be sure she eats some more chocolate when you get to the compartment." She pressed a Galleon into Ron's hand. "Here's some extra money for more chocolate from the sweets cart. You're to share with your sister!"

Ron grinned at Ginny as he promised to share his Chocolate Frogs with her. They said good-bye and assured Mrs Weasley that they would send Pig with a letter after the Welcoming Feast. Then, as Mrs Weasley stepped off the train, Ron pulled out his wand and levitated their trunks. Ginny picked up Pig's cage. As they began their trek to their compartment heads poked out of doors as the other students took notice of the pair's approach.

"Now I know how Harry felt at the beginning of last year," Ginny remarked as they entered the last carriage.

"How's that?" Ron asked.

"You and Hermione didn't see what happened. Everyone was staring at Harry and all those annoying girls were pointing and whispering about him. Now they're doing it to us," she explained as they entered the last coach.

In the first compartment they passed, she caught a glimpse of Draco Malfoy sitting with Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini. He glanced in her direction, but didn't react to her direct gaze, a change from years past. She wondered whether the three had spent the entire summer at Grimmauld Place or travelled between the house and the Slytherin guest suites at the castle. In all the uproar over Harry and Dumbledore's abduction, she hadn't thought of them in weeks.

"Ron, Ginny, in here," the familiar voice of Neville Longbottom called. He held the door open and stepped back to let them enter.

Ginny smiled weakly. "Thank goodness," she breathed, sinking onto the first seat in the compartment and passing a shaky hand over her face.

Luna eyed her with a raised eyebrow. "Dementors or Wrakspurts?" she asked.

"Dementors," Ginny answered. "They're affecting me worse than ever." She turned to Hermione who was hovering close by. "I'm cold. Could one of you get my cloak out of my trunk for me, please?"

Ron set Ginny's trunk down with a gentle thump in front of Hermione. "Sure, Ginny," she said, as Ron handed her several chocolate frogs, one already unwrapped. She broke off its head and began to nibble on it.

As Hermione located the cloak, Neville asked, "Any news of Harry?"

The three of them looked at each other and shook their heads—they had agreed not to say anything to anyone outside the Room of Requirement.

"I thought there would be by now," Luna said, looking sadly out the window at the misty platform.

Ginny reached over and patted her friend's arm. "We did too, but in the meantime, I've decided that no news is good news."

Luna seemed to accept this and reached for her copy of the latest _Quibbler_.

Neville cleared his throat. He sounded nervous as he asked, "Did you hear the news? The Death Eaters have taken over the Ministry."

"When?" everyone asked.

"About eleven o'clock last night. Minister Scrimgeour, Cornelius Fudge and a couple of junior assistants were holding a late meeting in the Minister's office when someone barged in and cast the Killing Curse on the lot," Neville said.

"The new Minister of Magic is supposed to be announced later today. It was all over the _Prophet_ this morning."

Ron was the first to recover. "Er… we've been a bit busy the last few days," he said vaguely. "And Mum and Dad have stopped reading the _Prophet._"

Hermione looked scandalized at this bit of news, but said nothing when Ron scowled at her and shook his head. Ginny and Ron knew their parents' reasons for not reading the paper—despite knowing Hermione's opinion of the necessity of staying informed—and weren't about to share them on the train… their conversation could be overheard and that wouldn't bode well for the Weasley family.

"Have they released the names of the junior assistants yet?" Ginny asked, her throat feeling almost too tight to speak. "Percy?" she gasped.

Ron's head whipped around to stare at Neville. "Was he…?"

Neville shook his head. "No. He was the one who found them," he said gravely.

Ginny exhaled loudly, then her eyes grew wide. "Mum and Dad… they don't know!" she murmured. "PIG!" She and Ron lunged for Pigwidgeon's cage simultaneously. Ron reached the cage first, opened it and liberated his owl. Ginny grabbed for her bag instead and pulled out a piece of parchment and a Muggle pencil. She jotted a quick note and gave it to Pig, who was sitting quietly on Ron's finger, for once. As soon as Ron opened the window the little owl took off, just as the train began pulling out of the station.

Ginny put her things away, then went back to her seat, feeling numb. Hermione handed her the cloak before taking a seat next to Ron on the other side of the compartment, leaving Harry's normal seat next to Ginny empty – a silent testament to his absence. Except for a few murmured sentences when Hermione and Ron went forward for their Prefects meeting, nobody talked much the entire trip; there was just too much to think about.

More Dementors were present at the Hogsmeade train station and they sent the older students scurrying for the carriages as fast as they could go. As bad as they made her feel, Ginny felt sorry for the first-years, who quickly left the platform with a blubbering Rubeus Hagrid. As soon as they found an empty carriage, Ginny collapsed into a seat; she could hardly wait to get to the castle and escape the hideous creatures and what they made her remember. One glance at Ron, Hermione, Luna and Neville told her they didn't feel much better.

The Welcoming Feast was no better than the train or carriage rides. As they passed into the Great Hall, Ginny and her friends cringed at the sight of a Dementor stationed in the Entrance Hall.

"If those things are going to be in the castle this year, I'm in trouble," Ginny remarked to Luna.

"You'll find a way to cope," Luna reassured her. "You always do."

"Thanks, Luna. That means a lot to hear that," Ginny said and the two witches departed for their respective house tables.

Because of Professor Dumbledore's disappearance and Voldemort's take-over of the Ministry, sweeping changes had taken place at Hogwarts in the last eighteen hours, which the students learned about from their new Headmaster before the food appeared. Professor McGonagall had declined the head's position, preferring to remain as Deputy Headmistress and the Head of Gryffindor House. In her place, Voldemort and the Board of Governors had chosen Severus Snape as the new Headmaster. That left not only the Defence Against the Dark Arts position open (last year's Defence teacher had been too scared by last term's battle to return to the school), but the Potion Master's post vacant as well. These positions had been filled by Amycus Carrow and a retired Potioneer by the name of Horace Slughorn.

Just as the food appeared, Professor Carrow stood up and called for their attention. "Let this be a warning to you. I have heard reports of students out of bed in years past. This year, no one will be wandering the halls after curfew. If you do you may find yourselves trapped in some rather nasty situations. You may not live to tell the tale," he wheezed. "Oh, and Mr Filch has my permission to use his whips and thumbscrews during detention this year."

A rumble of dismay raced through the student body. The biggest question of the evening was "who had put Carrow in charge of discipline," although almost everyone knew the answer but weren't voicing their opinions. Only the Slytherins looked pleased at this news.

As soon as the students were dismissed to go to their dormitories, Ginny raced past the Dementors to the Owlery. She wrote four sentences to her parents:

"Dementors and booby traps in the castle. Severus Snape is Headmaster. Horace Slughorn, Potions and Amycus Carrow, Defence. What do you know? G."

Pig brought Mrs Weasley's letter back the next morning at breakfast. She thanked Ron and Ginny for the information about Percy and told them that he had shown up at The Burrow about dinner time, pale and shaking and wanting to spend the night. (Ginny was glad that Percy had come home, but Ron wasn't quite so generous.)

Mrs Weasley's response to Ginny's report was scathing at best. She was very upset by the presence of the Dementors, writing that the castle was not Azkaban and the students weren't prisoners. "What are they thinking booby trapping the school at night?" she added at the end of her paragraph. "It's as if they're planning on killing the students rather than teaching them!"

She railed on about Professor Snape's coup and was positively enraged by the choice of Amycus Carrow as the Defence teacher and chief disciplinarian.

"_He's a Death Eater!_ _ The worst sort there is: no morals and as sadistic as they come, according to your father and Tonks. If he truly is the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, I wouldn't be surprised if what he teaches is really Dark Arts, with an emphasis on 'dark'. Please don't do anything to attract detention, you two! I want you back in one piece at the end of term!"_

Her opinion of Horace Slughorn was a mixture of pleasure and precaution. She was elated that her former professor had been talked into coming out of retirement, saying that his teaching style was much different from Snape's.

"_I think you'll find his teaching methods more relaxed, although I remember he expects just as much from his students as Professor Snape," _she wrote_. "He's nice most of the time, too. However, I wouldn't get too chummy with him; he is, after all, the Head of Slytherin House."_

This caused a twitter of laughter from the Gryffindors sitting around Ginny as she read portions of the letter aloud.

Mrs Weasley ended her letter by cautioning Ginny, Ron and Hermione about the importance of being extremely vigilant about what they included in their letters home. The three of them looked at each other and mouthed, "Grimmauld Place."

Hermione, therefore, took it upon herself to research Non-detectable Concealment Spells that the three of them could use on their letters. After four days of searching, she came up with three that they could use in addition to something she called "encryption." The three quickly put the spells into use to everyone they wrote to, including Dudley. What surprised Ginny was not how easy it was to encrypt a letter, but the fact that Dudley Dursley found the writing of encrypted letters amusingly cloak-and-dagger.

He wrote to all three of them, often sending several letters at a time with Mrs Weasley's owl. The letters were usually short, but from the beginning, they were a bright ray of light in an otherwise depressing existence. Ginny, Ron and Hermione enjoyed reading about his days at The Burrow; in one his first letters he thanked Ron and Ginny for accepting his help with the search for Harry because Dudley hadn't thought they'd want him around.

In another he told them about helping Mr Weasley catalogue his collection of Muggle artefacts. A week later he wrote, _"Your dad brought home a Gateway Solo laptop computer last week, claiming that it was now free of the eye lock hex someone had put on it. He did some brilliant spell work and got it running without electricity, but once it was turned on, he had no idea how to work it. He asked me to help him and for the last few days I've been helping him learn about the Windows 95 operating system—a computer program I worked with at school last year. He's now talking about finding the jinxed printer that came with it so he can print his letters to you."_

Dudley also recounted helping Mrs Weasley in the back garden by weeding the flowerbeds and degnoming them every few days. An enthusiastic paragraph about learning to cook without magic brought a chuckle from Ron who, like his brothers, wouldn't be caught dead in a kitchen unless it was to eat.

Hermione was scandalized. "How are you going to eat after you leave school?" she asked.

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I hadn't thought of that," he said, scowling. Then he brightened. "You'll invite me over for dinner?" he asked hopefully.

Hermione snorted. "Not as often as you think," she said.

Ron shrugged his shoulders again. "It was worth a try," he said to Ginny, sending her into a fit of giggles.

Dudley also rose to the challenge of learning to say a lot in a whole lot of nonsense. His codes, though simple, were often hard to decipher. Towards the end of the last week of September Ginny received a note from him that contained an encrypted paragraph that sounded insignificant to those around them, but was interesting enough that she read it aloud to Hermione and Ron.

"_Your rather excitable mum said she wants to be sure you are going to send notes to Aunt Hedwig. She is now home from the Augurey recovery hospital and has settled in nicely. Look for Percy's letter in mid-October. He will watch for your letters for now. Please write her soon."_

When she finished, Hermione said urgently, "Meet me in the Room of Requirement in fifteen minutes."

"That's not enough time what with all those booby traps to detour around," Ron protested. Ginny raised an eyebrow in his direction as he continued. "Besides, we've got Carrow at ten and I'm not skiving off his lesson again." He rubbed his ribs where Ginny had seen the painful bruise Carrow had inflicted with a spell two nights previously during Ron's detention. Nothing Madam Pomfrey tried had brought her brother relief from the lingering pain.

"We'll be done in time for Ginny's Charms class at nine, Ron," Hermione said reassuringly. "The paragraph isn't that long."

Ron looked dubious. "If you say so," he muttered and returned his attention to his breakfast.

Ron and Hermione were already in the Room when Ginny arrived in the seventh floor corridor. She was later than she should have been because she'd met Draco Malfoy on the stairs and then had to make a detour around Dementors in two different corridors. The door was visible to her, so she slipped inside, closing it firmly behind her.

"What kept you?" Ron asked as she entered.

"Draco," she answered. "He asked if we'd had news about Harry. I told him we hadn't."

Ron raised an eyebrow when she used Draco's given name, but said nothing as he turned back to Hermione.

The Room had provided a small table and three chairs, two of which were occupied by her brother and Hermione. Hermione looked frustrated; she had copied Dudley's paragraph onto a piece of parchment, but didn't seem to be getting anywhere.

"I hate Dudley's simple codes," she muttered. "They're always the hardest to figure out."

"When's the letter dated?" Ginny asked. They'd solved another of Dudley's letters using a date code two weeks ago.

"That's it! Ginny, you're a genius," Hermione exclaimed, jumping up to hug her. "The message words are space two or three words apart." She sat back down and began reading slowly as her quill flew over her parchment. "Your mum… wants… you to… send Hedwig… home. Recovery… set… for mid-October. Watch for her."

The three of them stared at each other, not quite believing the news. Ron recovered enough first to murmur, "Blimey, a rescue in two weeks."

"Two long weeks," Ginny whispered. "I don't know if Harry and I can last that long…" Her stomach twisted and she wished she hadn't eaten quite so much for breakfast.

Ron stepped up and caught her in a one-armed hug. "You can and you will, just like Harry will and he doesn't know there's a rescue being planned," he said bracingly. "I know you will."

She hugged him back. "Thanks, Ron. Hearing you so confident helps a lot," she said. Then, she looked at her watch. "Oh, time for me to go. I'll see you two at lunch."

She gathered up her book bag and headed for the door. As she turned the knob she said grinning, "Now don't use all the rest of your time here for snogging, you two." She made it out the door just as Ron's trainer hit it with a resounding thud.

**oOo**

At the end of the first week, Professor McGonagall had called Ginny into her office to ask if there was anything she could do to help her deal with Harry's kidnapping. She had noticed how stressed Ginny always looked in the early afternoon and was concerned she wasn't coping very well. As much as she hadn't wanted to admit it, the daily episodes with Harry's emotional transmissions were beginning to wear on Ginny, so she requested a change in her schedule that would accommodate the hour she needed to be by herself. That request had been granted and for the last three weeks, Ginny had been going up to the suite Harry had occupied during the summer for some much-needed private time each afternoon.

Ginny was very grateful to Professor McGonagall and thankful that she had someplace to go when Harry began sharing his emotions with her earlier than usual, like he was today. Ginny had gone to the library during her lunch break with Luna to look something up for a joint project they were doing for Charms and they were pouring over a heavy tome when her forehead began to throb incessantly, a sure sign that Harry was about to "share."

"Luna, I've got to go," Ginny whispered, struggling to keep her focus long enough to get herself out of the library. "If you think this is the book we need, go ahead and check it out. I'll see you in Defence."

Luna flicked her wand at her things causing them to pack themselves. "I'm coming with you, Ginny," she said, pointing her wand at Ginny's belongings. When Ginny's parchment and quills had nestled themselves in her bag she whispered, "Is it Harry?"

"Yes, something terrible has happened and he's feeling very alone right now," Ginny said grimly. They hurried to the fifth floor and stopped in front of the Seeker painting.

"I won't come in. Hedwig doesn't like me," Luna said matter-of-factly. "You'll be all right now?"

Ginny smiled wanly and rubbed her forehead. "Yeah, I'll be fine once I can lie down."

Luna departed, leaving Ginny alone in front of the portrait. Ginny gazed at the familiar scene and felt a lump forming in her throat. She was saddened because she knew today was the last time she would come here. In a few minutes she would be releasing Hedwig to fly back to The Burrow and when she was gone and Ginny had collected all of Harry's things, there would no longer be a purpose for her to come here.

Harry's owl mourned his absence as much as Ginny. Hedwig was fiercely protective of his possessions and would attack anyone who tried to remove them from his rooms. Ginny was sure Hedwig thought Harry was coming back to get what he'd left, and that she wanted to be present when he did. Ginny was grateful to Hedwig for her loyalty and perseverance for the owl provided the young witch with a calm, quiet retreat to come to each afternoon. While Ginny lay on the bed hugging a pillow that amazingly still smelled of his scent, Hedwig kept watch nearby.

"Hello, Hedwig," Ginny called as she closed the portrait and walked through the sitting room to Harry's bedroom. "It's me, Ginny." She held up her arm and Hedwig flew over to her. "I've got some news, girl. Would you like to hear it?"

As if she understood, Hedwig bobbed up and down, so Ginny continued. "I received a letter from Dudley this morning. He said Mum wants you to fly home and wait there with Errol until she gives you a message to bring back to me." She stared straight into Hedwig's unblinking amber gaze as she asked, "Can you do that for me, girl? You're the only one who can carry the message."

Again, Hedwig bobbed up and down. "I'm going to miss our special time together, Hedwig," Ginny sniffed as she walked over to the window where Hedwig's cage sat. She pulled out her wand, shrunk the cage and tied the tiny parcel to the owl's leg. "Have a safe flight," she said, stroking Hedwig's head one last time. Hedwig leaned into her touch and it was all Ginny could do to open the window and toss Hedwig towards the forest. She watched as the owl became a tiny speck on the horizon.

Now alone in Harry's suite, surrounded by his things, Ginny gave into the tears. Her one tangible tie to Harry had just left and in its place was an enormous empty feeling. She sighed as she turned from the window and began packing Harry's trunk. With Hedwig no longer here to protect his possessions, Ginny was afraid someone would enter the suite and vandalize them.

When the trunk was packed and shrunk to fit in her book bag, Ginny wandered into the sitting room and sank down onto the couch next to Harry's rucksack. It sat in the exact spot Professor McGonagall had found it in after she heard of Harry's and Dumbledore's disappearance. Ginny knew the contents by heart and could feel Harry's magic radiating from his possessions and sympathize with the emotions contained in his journal. She had read his words many times over and always found comfort in his messy handwriting.

She opened the rucksack one last time, fingering the silky material of the Invisibility Cloak and caressing the binding of the journal. With a final sigh, she closed up the bag, shrunk it and added it to the collection of tiny items in her own bag. The room was now bare of anything that reminded her of Harry Potter. A tear slid down her cheek and she curled up on the sofa, feeling miserable. Minutes later, she heard the portrait open and looked up to see Hermione standing in the doorway.

"Hi, Ginny. I stopped by to see if you needed anything," she said, coming to sit next to Ginny. "How long today?"

Ginny sighed. "All morning, although the intensity has been building only since I got here," she said, sniffing loudly.

Hermione put her arm around Ginny. "I'm here now, so if you want to talk about what's going on with Harry, it might help you feel better," she suggested.

Ginny reached into her pocket and brought out Harry's wand, which she had carried with her since it had appeared in front of her on Harry's birthday. She stroked the shaft and several red and gold sparks sprang from its tip. "Oh, Hermione, he's really hurting today. Something happened that has made him incredibly sad and it feels as if he's keening. He feels so alone and abandoned and all I want to do is throw my arms around him and try to take the hurt away. I know I can't, but that's what my instincts tell me to do."

Hermione tightened her embrace. "Have you tried sending him comforting thoughts?"

"Not yet," Ginny sighed. "I was feeling sorry for myself and the fact that I'm going to have to find another place to cry each day 'cause Madam Pince would be scandalized if I chose the library!"

"No, I don't think she'd appreciate you getting her precious books all wet," Hermione chuckled as Ginny wriggled from under her arm and lay back against the cushions.

"I'm going to try sending Harry some comforting thoughts. Would you stay?" she asked.

Hermione nodded and Ginny concentrated on sending her thoughts to Harry. _Hang in there, Harry. We're doing all we can to find you and Professor Dumbledore. If you can, send me more images; they're a big help. I love you, Harry and even though we're far apart, I think of you constantly. I want to hold you, comfort you in your time of sorrow. Please, Harry, let me know where you are so we can come get you._

She didn't expect Harry to send her anything. She'd pleaded with him several other times for clues to his whereabouts, but her requests had gone unheeded. Today, however, Harry's sorrow must have been acting as a conduit for her thoughts because suddenly her head was filled with images. "Hermione," she gasped, sitting up and gripping her head. "Harry… images!"

There was a rustle of parchment and then Hermione's excited murmur, "Tell me, Ginny. I'll write it down."

Ginny concentrated hard. At first, Harry's attention focused on drops of water as they descended towards his forehead. "Slowly dripping water…" she murmured. "They're torturing him with… dripping water." Then, as Harry's attention wandered from the maddening dripping, he cried out, making Ginny do the same and she gasped, "White castle… by lake… village… cave… three rooms… covered in stalac—no stalag—oh damn, pointy rock formations on the floor and ceiling… Dumbledore asleep… he won't respond to shaking… barely alive… Death Eaters… Peter Pettigrew… _Professor Carrow?!"_

The images faded and Ginny was left with only the feeling of Harry's utter abandonment. But once she was able to separate her own feelings from Harry's, she and Hermione stared at each other in astonishment. "Is that what I think it is?" Ginny finally asked, realizing that they finally had some concrete information concerning Harry's and Dumbledore's whereabouts.

Hermione nodded, looking numb. Finally, she shook herself into action. "Yes! This is the second time the white building on the lake has come up," she exclaimed. "Ginny, this is excellent! Let's take this to Professor McGonagall now," she said quietly. She stood, folded the parchment and put it in her pocket. "She'll know what to do with this." She offered her hand to Ginny.

Ginny shook her head. "You go ahead, Hermione. I need to rest a little before Professor Carrow's class," she said. "I'm going to need all the strength I can dredge up."

Nodding grimly, Hermione put away her quill and ink and walked towards the door. "You'll be all right, then?" she asked.

Ginny's lips twitched a little. "Yeah, I'll be fine," she said.

Hermione left and a few minutes later, Ginny went into the bathroom to wash her face and, on impulse as she passed through the bedroom on her way out, she shrunk Harry's pillow and put it with the rest of his things in her book bag. Then, she hurried out of the suite towards the Dark Arts classroom and, even though she had to detour several times around Dementors and a group of Slytherins that was blocking the entrance to a corridor, was one of the first in line at the door.

**oOo**

Word came through Dudley that Ginny's information was extremely valuable. Ron, Hermione and Ginny exchanged secret smiles when they read this. They knew the end was close.

In the meantime, Hermione became convinced that the DA needed to be reformed and contacted all of the former members via their Galleons. Surprisingly, almost every original DA member still at Hogwarts had been keeping their coins in their pockets hoping a meeting would be called, and at the first meeting nearly thirty students showed up. The group voted Neville Longbottom its president and charged him, Ginny, Ron and Hermione with teaching the members what they had learned from their instructors last year. They also planned a few 'surprises' for the Slytherins whom they felt had too much authority under Professor Snape's leadership and ended the meeting with a review of the Shield Charm that was very successful indeed.

Now three weeks, two detentions for pranking Slytherins—one of which she had helped plan but not executed—and four DA meetings later, Ginny walked onto the Quidditch pitch with Ron for their afternoon practice. They both had their eyes on the sky as they always did whenever they were outside. So far, they hadn't seen Hedwig, and Ron was beginning to get nervous about it.

"We should have heard something from Mum by now," he complained as Demelza waved to them from her position high in the air and yelled, "Hey Captain, what's kept you?" to which Ron responded, "Later."

Ginny shook her head at him. "Give it another day or two. Mum said there were a lot of holes in that particular Scottish cheese in her last letter," Ginny told him. Her analogy made Ron chuckle.

"OK. I'll be patient," he said, swinging his leg over his broom. Ginny did the same and the two joined the rest of the team in the air.

Ginny, who had taken over the Seeker's position after Harry disappeared, joined the other players in several passing drills until Ron released the Snitch. She concentrated on the little golden ball as it wove between the Chasers and soared around the goal posts. She had just caught it for the second time, when she caught sight of something that made her heart soar; Hedwig was winging her way over the Forbidden Forest. Hoping to catch the owl's attention, Ginny flew towards her and then landed in the highest section of bleachers in the stadium. Hedwig landed next to her and stuck out her leg.

As she relieved the owl of her letter Ginny said, "It's really good to see you, but it's not safe for you to be here, Hedwig. The Death Eaters will know something is up if you suddenly show up in the Owlery." Hedwig turned her head towards the forest. "Yes, I think it's best if you leave. Thank you for delivering Mum's letter."

Hedwig stayed long enough to watch Ginny open the letter, then took off. Ginny watched as the owl circled the school and became a speck in the southern sky. A melancholy smile graced her lips as she turned her attention to the letter. Mrs Weasley hadn't bothered to be careful with her letter. Instead it read,

_Dear Professor McGonagall, _

_There has been a death in our family and Ron and Ginny are needed at home for the next few days. Also, as Hermione Granger is a family friend and knew the deceased, I would appreciate it if she could be allowed to come with Ron and Ginny. Services will be this weekend. Please send my children and Hermione home after classes end for the week this Friday. They will return in time for lessons on Monday morning at the latest._

_Sincerely,_

_Molly Weasley_

Excitedly, Ginny mounted her broom and flew down to show the letter to Ron. He cut practice short, promising a longer one upon his return, and together with Ginny sprinted across the lawn to the castle doors.

It took nearly twenty-four hours for Ron, Ginny and Hermione to get permission to leave the school. Professor McGonagall had given her approval right away, but when he heard of their departure, Professor Carrow insisted on checking his records for newly assigned detentions that would need to be fulfilled before he would let them leave. Finally, at lunchtime on the day they were to leave, Professor McGonagall sent word that they had permission to go home.

Later that night, as she lay in bed trying to fall asleep, Ginny sent her thoughts out to Harry. _Hold on just a little longer, Harry. We're coming to get you out of there very, very soon. _

She hoped with all her heart that he had heard her.

**End of Chapter Eighteen**

_**A/N: **For those of you who are very anxious for Harry's rescue to take place, you'll see the beginnings of it in the next chapter. That particular chapter is also from Ginny's point of view for the simple reason that I completely deleted the original Chapter 18 and had to rewrite it from memory. As things usually go when something like that happens to me, the second version was so long that I ended up splitting it in two. In hindsight, I actually think my mistake benefited the story by providing more room for me to make the chapters more exciting and realistic. I sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter._

_Many thanks go out to my pre-beta team of Jedi34 and GhostWriter who took the time to give me their encouragement and criticism which ultimately made the chapter better. I also thank my beta Aggiebell whose comments and suggestions keep me on my toes providing her with my intentions and my ideas behind various things included in the chapter. Thank you, too, to all those who left their remarks in the reviews. Your comments are the encouragement that keeps me pushing forward toward the end of my tale._


	19. 19 Action at Last

**Chapter Nineteen: Action at Last**

Ginny met Ron and Hermione outside Professor McGonagall's office. Their Head of House immediately answered Hermione's knock and quickly ushered the three of them inside, shutting the door firmly behind them.

Going to the hearth beside her desk, Professor McGonagall held out her pot of Floo Powder. "Please be careful," she said quietly, her voice full of concern. "Bring them out alive… if you can."

Ginny bit her lip as first Hermione and then Ron disappeared into the flames. "We're going to try, Professor," she promised. "We're going to try." She threw in her pinch of Floo powder and entered the green flames, calling out her destination.

She spun to a stop and deftly stepped out onto The Burrow's hearth. "Hi, Mum!" she exclaimed as her mother enfolded her in a bear hug. "Oh, it's so good to be home."

Her mother released her and bustled over to the cooker. "Are you doing any better?" Mrs Weasley asked over her shoulder, concern showing in her eyes.

"I have my good days and my bad. So does Harry," Ginny answered truthfully, scanning the kitchen. She spotted a group of Order members standing quietly in the far corner. Fred and Percy were amongst them. "What can I do to help?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Get out plates and cutlery, please," she paused, counting heads, "for twenty-five."

Ginny hung up her travelling cloak as Hermione and Ron emerged from the stairwell. "That many?"

"Yes, the group over in the corner is the reconnaissance team," George said, coming over to greet her. "They leave in a half-hour. There's another, smaller group in the lounge that will leave at midnight."

"When are we leaving?" Ginny asked as she opened the bureau to get out plates and utensils.

Mrs Weasley immediately bristled, her wand suspended over a large cauldron of soup. "Ginevra, I don't think you should participate," she said tersely.

Ginny set her stack of plates on the table with a ceramic clatter. "Mum, you can't make me stay here," she pleaded. "Do you have any idea what it's been like to have Harry screaming in my head for the last six weeks? I have to be part of his rescue."

Mrs Weasley opened her mouth to reply, but Ron interjected, "Let's talk about that later." He looked imploringly between Ginny and their mum. "Is dinner ready, Mum?"

Sighing, Mrs Weasley answered, "Not quite yet. Hermione, would you help Ginny take the pitchers of butterbeer to the table, please?" She looked pointedly at Ron. "Ronald, call everyone to the kitchen, then help me get the food on the table."

The reconnaissance team left immediately after the meal, which had been silent and tense. Everyone had filled their plates and bowls themselves and milled about, speaking in hushed voices. Finally, as the clock struck eleven o'clock, Ginny approached her parents to bid them good night and try one more time to get their permission to go with Ron, Dudley and Hermione. Their answer was still a negative one and she trudged up to bed with heavy feet. A moment later, she heard Hermione coming after her.

As she shrugged into her nightdress, Ginny asked, "Would you wake me up when you get up, please?"

Hermione slid under her covers. "I promise, Ginny. If it helps at all, I think you deserve to go."

Ginny smiled tiredly. "Thanks, Hermione. It does. Good night."

Hermione woke Ginny shortly before three in the morning. They dressed hurriedly in jeans, sweatshirts and trainers, and grabbing small bum bags and warm coats, met Ron and Dudley on the landing outside Ginny's door.

"Are you ready for some parental fireworks?" Ron asked Ginny as she closed her door.

"Yes, but this is one argument I'm determined to win," she said resignedly, leading the way down the stairs.

She spotted Fred and George sitting at the table as she emerged from the stairwell and walked over to them. "What's the news?" she asked as the other three joined her.

"Fifteen Death Eaters Apparated in," Fred reported, for once completely serious.

"Pettigrew was one of them," said George, equally grave.

"Cave's in a clearing about half-way up the mountain."

"Wizard-made, if you ask me."

"Why'd you say that?" Hermione asked.

"The entrance doesn't look like a natural opening even though rocks have been placed in front of it. It's too round," George commented.

"How did the Order find the cave?" Ginny asked.

"One of the Death Eaters we captured several weeks ago spilled his guts," Fred said, grinning unpleasantly. He handed out four pieces of paper upon which was written the location of the cave. "Our Secret Keeper wanted me to give you this," he said. "You know what to do." Ginny read hers and threw it into the fire after committing the location to memory.

"It was such a pleasure getting that information out of Draco Malfoy!" George chortled.

"Draco?" Ginny, Ron and Hermione asked together.

"The very one," George said.

"But he's been at school," Ron said in disbelief.

"He has no idea what he told us or that he was even captured," Fred said gleefully. He lowered his voice so that only Ginny, Ron, Dudley and Hermione could hear. "We had a small 'oops' at the end of the interrogation and he remembers nothing."

"You… you Obliviated him?" Hermione gasped.

"Nah, we wouldn't be that cruel," Fred said offhandedly.

"He just chose the wrong glass, is all. Swallowed a specialized Forgetfulness Potion instead of a drink of water," George finished.

Hermione huffed, "That's almost as bad!"

Fred cleared his throat, looking innocent. "His choice."

"I still don't get it," Ron said. "When did you interrogate Draco? It couldn't have been very long ago."

George and Fred exchanged glances. "Before school started, actually," George said, looking uncomfortable. "We intercepted him when he left Grimmauld Place for Hogwarts at the beginning of August. He let Nott and Zabini use the Floo first and we just waylaid Malfoy a little while."

"Is he a Death Eater?" Ron growled.

"No, he's not," Fred said, "even though he took the Dark Mark."

Hermione asked, "How can you not be a Death Eater when you've been branded with that awful snake and skull?"

George studied the floor rather intensely as he said, "I don't know. He's not the same ferret we've known all these years. There's no Slytherin arrogance left in him." He raised his eyes to Ginny's as he said, "That battle at Hogwarts last June changed him."

Mrs Weasley walked up at behind Fred and George. "That's enough, you two," she said, making the twins jump when she put a hand on each of their shoulders. Spotting Ginny she asked, "Ginny what are you doing up and why are you dressed like that?"

Ginny prepared herself for the tirade she was sure was coming. "Mum, I'm going with Hermione, Ron and Dudley to rescue Harry," she said more calmly than she felt.

"I thought I made myself clear earlier," Mrs Weasley said sharply. "No daughter of mine is going off to fight Death Eaters!"

"That's not fair, Mum, and you know it!" Ginny said heatedly. "I'm the one Harry's been trying to communicate with, the one he's been sharing his thoughts and feelings with for so long. If anyone should go it's me."

"Ginny, you're under age," Mrs Weasley said. "You'll get in trouble with the Ministry if you do any sort of magic while you're on this rescue because it's not school related."

Ginny stared at her mother, her mind working furiously. "Mum, remember that talk we had last summer, before Harry was kidnapped?" she asked, deciding to appeal to her mother's sense of fairness.

"Yes, I do."

"Well, you told me that your brothers wouldn't let you go with them on Order missions and that you've always regretted not going. Is it fair to make me wait like they did you and have to cope with the possibility of never getting to say good-bye if something happens to one of my brothers?" she asked.

Mrs Weasley pursed her lips. Ginny could see her mother was wavering.

"Please, Mrs Weasley," Dudley said, stepping up beside Ginny, "let her go with us. If anything, I need someone to watch my back because I don't have a wand. Tonks has told me all along how connected Ginny is to Harry and if he's transmitting anything she'll know it. Her information could help us find him sooner and might make a difference."

"Oh, all right! You may go, Ginny," Mrs Weasley finally said, her bottom lip trembling. She turned to Dudley, a fierce gleam in her eye. "You better bring her and Harry back here alive, you hear?"

"Yes, ma'am, I promise," Dudley said. Mrs Weasley hugged him and Ginny, and then fled up the stairs as Mr Weasley walked up to the group.

He addressed Dudley, although his eyes followed his wife as she disappeared up the stairs. "I assume my daughter will be going with you tonight."

"Yes, sir," Dudley responded. "We're part of Tonks' team."

"Very well, then," said Mr Weasley. "I know you'll look after her and Harry when you find him. Please be careful."

"We will," Ginny and Dudley said together.

"When do you leave?" Mr Weasley asked.

Dudley looked at his watch. "In about ten minutes. We need to let Ron and Hermione get in place before we go."

"Ginny, do you know your security questions?" Mr Weasley asked.

Ginny smiled at her father. "I do, Dad, and I'm ready for anything the others ask me."

"That's good. Better get some breakfast, then," Mr Weasley said. "Your mother's left a batch of scones and some hot chocolate and tea out on the counter for anyone who wants it."

Ron stepped in front of their father. "Thanks, Dad," he said, holding out his hand. "We'll see in the clearing."

Mr Weasley shook Ron's hand and then ascended the stairs, leaving the four to their breakfast.

**oOo**

Ginny and Dudley stepped out of a fireplace into an elegantly appointed sitting room and she immediately looked around for Tonks. She spotted her lounging in an overstuffed armchair conversing with another witch and led Dudley over for the exchange of security questions.

"Tonks, what was our favourite dinner-time activity the summer we met?" Ginny asked.

Tonks grinned and Transfigured her nose into a pig snout. Behind her, Dudley inhaled sharply. Ginny grinned.

Now it was Tonks' turn. "Why didn't you talk to Harry the first summer he visited your house?" she asked, a sly smile lighting up her now-normal features.

Ginny blushed to the roots of her hair. "I was too hero-struck," she squeaked.

Tonks turned to Dudley. "What is your nickname for Mr Diggle?"

He turned slightly pink, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "Tiny," was all he could manage and Ginny found it hard to suppress her giggles.

Tonks turned to the other witch. "It's them all right. Thanks for letting me crash here while I waited. Are you sure you can't go with us, Cecilia?"

Cecilia shook her head. "I'm afraid not. I'd love to go, but I'm on duty tonight. If I left my post I'd be in for it with Lady Katherine and as much as I'd like to, helping you catch even a small group of Death Eaters isn't worth my job," she said, looking rather disappointed.

Tonks nodded. "That's life, I reckon. Well, we best be on our way," she said, motioning to Ginny and Dudley to follow her. She led them down a short hallway and out an exterior door. As they exited, Ginny studied the building. She could see that it wasn't the main, white-painted castle she had expected to travel to, but a smaller, natural stone gatehouse. In front of the building was a diminutive car painted like the union jack.

Dudley was grinning as Tonks unlocked the vehicle. "Sweet," he murmured, "a Mini!"

Ginny couldn't help asking, "Will Dudley fit in here, Tonks?"

Tonks snorted with laughter as Dudley commented, "You're riding in back, Weasley."

"I wouldn't dream of taking the front seat," she giggled and climbed quickly into the car.

"All right, that's enough," Tonks smirked, getting in and starting the engine. When they were buckled in, she continued, "I've always wanted to drive one of these, but haven't had the chance until now. Cecilia's helping the Order tonight by loaning this car to us." She released the parking brake and pulled out onto the road. Ginny watched in fascination as the castle gates automatically closed behind the Mini.

"It won't be very long now," Tonks told them.

She was right. Fifteen minutes later, the Mini reached the outskirts of the village of Lockearnhead and Tonks guided it through the village until they reached the other side. She turned right towards the mountain which loomed darkly over the Loch. After another minute or two more she parked in a grove of trees, next to a trailhead.

"We'll walk from here," Tonks said, getting out and throwing up protective spells around the Mini.

Dudley helped Ginny out of the back seat and the three began the hike to the rendezvous point. They walked in silence until the trees started to thin. Dudley, who had taken the lead, held up a hand to stop the two behind him and then pointed into the trees to their right. He'd found the clearing.

Tonks whispered, "This is where I leave you. Ron and Hermione are already in place closer to the cave's mouth over there. Stay low, be careful. The Death Eaters Apparate into this clearing. Ginny, if you run into trouble send your Patronus."

"I will, Tonks. See you inside," Ginny said.

"Cheerio," Tonks muttered wryly, and as Ginny and Dudley moved towards the clearing, she turned on the spot and was gone.

"Do you see Ron and Hermione?" Dudley asked as they crouched down behind some rocks and began scanning the edges of the clearing.

"Not yet. But Ron isn't wearing a cap so we'll spot him right away even in this light," Ginny observed nervously. Then, she pointed to a patch of ginger-coloured hair. "There, straight ahead."

"Yeah, that's them," Dudley agreed. "He needs to cover that hair of his. And so do you."

Ginny scowled at him, but put up the hood of her coat anyway. _No need to advertise our location,_ she thought.

"I'll send my Patronus to ask a security question just to make sure it's them," Ginny said, standing up enough to aim her wand at the pair across the clearing.

As her horse cantered away, Dudley whispered, "I'll never get used to seeing that."

"Neither will I," Ginny said, sinking back behind the sheltering rocks. A moment later, Ron's Jack Russell Terrier bounded up and delivered its response to Ginny's question, "Mischief Managed."

"I recognize that phrase," Dudley said as he scanned the clearing for signs of trouble. There was no other movement to be seen. "Harry used to mumble that in his sleep. I often wondered what it meant."

"I'll tell you about it sometime… or maybe you could talk to Harry about it when Mum's not fussing over him," Ginny said as a wave of emotion made her breath catch. This close to Harry his thoughts were clearer than ever before. Their intensity shook her to her core. "Let's get this thing over with and find Harry and Professor Dumbledore." And not waiting for Dudley to respond, she tugged at his sleeve and they hastened as quietly as they could towards the spot where Ron and Hermione were hidden.

"How long before we can go in?" Ginny whispered to Hermione as she crouched next to her several minutes later.

"Not long," Hermione answered. "I think we can safely go in now, actually. Tonks just cancelled several of their concealment spells. Look… only one guard." She indicated the single pair of duellers throwing spells at each other in front of the cave's mouth.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Dudley asked, a feral grin lighting his face.

"This," Hermione said, tapping her wand on his head to Disillusion him. He grimaced as the spell swept down his body and helped him fade into their surroundings.

"I'll remove the spell once we're inside," she added. Dudley only grunted.

Together, using trees, bushes and boulders as cover, the four of them hurried towards the cave's entrance and slipped through the opening, unnoticed by the two duelling a few feet away. Once inside, they immediately took cover behind some boulders and set to work. While Hermione removed her spells and threw a Shield Charm over their hiding place, Ginny scanned the ante-chamber; she was looking for her parents. She found them duelling with two Death Eaters at the very back of the ante-chamber in front of a set of iron gates that had been erected in a narrow opening in the rock. From what she could see, this was the entrance into the rest of the cave and as she tried to peer past the gates, her mother Stunned and bound her opponent and then turned to help her husband dispatch the second Death Eater. Ginny pumped her fist thinking, _Go Mum!_

Meanwhile, Ron and Dudley had been conversing with the help of a pair of Extendable Ears. Dudley gestured towards the side wall of the ante-chamber, as if pointing out their route to the gates. Ron now nodded and came over to where Ginny and Hermione were ready with their own pair of Extendable Ears.

"On Dudley's count, we're going for it," Ron said. "Ginny, you and Dudley will lead. Get through those gates as quickly as you can. Hermione and I will be right behind you, covering your backs. Any questions?"

Ginny shook her head. "No. I'm going to cast a Shield Charm on us since Dudley doesn't have a wand," she said.

"Good idea, Ginny," Hermione said, brandishing her own wand to cover herself and Ron. When she was finished, the two couples dashed from behind the sheltering rocks and wove their way between the combatants to the gates, taking cover as often as they could behind the rocky outcroppings near the cave wall.

They stopped just inside the gates and stared in open-mouthed wonder. The room they had just entered was enormous. As long as a Quidditch pitch and just as wide, the room was filled with beautiful rock formations formed by dripping stalactites. The Death Eaters had lit the cavern with hanging torches which threw flickering shadows on the walls and down the middle of the floor they had cleared a wide avenue-like walkway that had several side paths branching off it in different directions. Ginny's gaze followed the main walkway as it led straight towards the back of the cavern to a dark hole that could only be another exit. _Harry's somewhere back there, _she thought as she tried to locate the place he was being held.

Suddenly, Dudley dragged Ginny behind a giant stalagmite, hissing, "Get down!" An errant spell from the other room had just whizzed past his head, causing Ginny's shield to quiver. It hit a nearby stalactite, shattering it in a million pieces that rained down on top of them. "Can you feel Harry?" he asked, eying the debris as it slid off Ginny's shield.

Ginny closed her eyes and concentrated. Although their connection was weaker than it had been earlier, it was still there. "They're holding him back there," she said, pointing towards the back of the cavern. "Down that tunnel, I think."

Dudley nodded and signalled to Ron and Hermione, who had taken shelter on the opposite side of the gates, that he and Ginny were going to venture further into the cave. They acknowledged with a signal of their own, and with Dudley leading, they hastened down the middle of the main walkway. They encountered no one, which gave Ginny a very creepy feeling; she would rather have to fight her way in, she supposed, than just blithely stroll along undeterred. About twenty feet from the tunnel entrance, they again took shelter behind a rock formation. Ron and Hermione did the same and Hermione cast a spell on the tunnel's entrance.

"That's not good," Dudley muttered as the tunnel lit up with multi-coloured spells like the lights of a fun-fair.

"Wait a bit, Dudley," Ginny reassured him. "That's just her initial Revealing Spell. If Hermione and Ron are going to disable all of the spells, they have to see them, you know? Look, that bright yellow spell is already fading."

Dudley glanced at her dubiously. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Ginny laid a reassuring hand on his arm. "My oldest brother Bill, the curse breaker on Mad-Eye's team who works for Gringotts Bank, taught them these spells last summer. We'll be all right," she said. "Hermione is the smartest witch in her year. She won't let us down."

Dudley sighed and Ginny could tell he was nervous. "If you say so."

It took Ron and Hermione a little over five minutes to disable the security spells. Sometimes they cast separately, sometimes together until only a pale blue spell remained. Ron walked over to Ginny and Dudley. "All clear, you two," he said, grinning. "We left the Caterwauling Charm intact, though. Thought Harry and Professor Dumbledore would want to know someone was coming."

"Good idea, but it might alert the Death Eaters, too, you know," Dudley said.

"We'll have to take that chance," Ron said.

Dudley appeared to mull this over. He included Hermione as he finally asked, "All ready?"

"Yeah, let's do it," Ron said, his head swivelling from side to side and Ginny knew he was searching for hidden attackers. She and Dudley hadn't seen anyone.

Since none were about, the four teens crossed the last bit of walkway and entered the tunnel. It was pitch-black inside and Ginny, Ron and Hermione all lit their wands; Dudley switched on a Muggle torch Mr Weasley had charmed for him. The tunnel led straight back into the rock and looked distinctively man-made. The Caterwauling Charm went off suddenly and Ginny heard Ron cast the cancellation spell over the din.

"Thanks, Ron," Hermione called back to him over her shoulder. He grinned and they resumed their walk.

They came to an intersection. Another tunnel led both to the right and the left.

"Stop here, please," Ginny requested, kneeling down. "Harry's here somewhere, I can feel him." She closed her eyes and concentrated on his thoughts. "They've been keeping him both to the right and to the left although at the moment the signal I'm getting from the left is stronger."

"Let's check the right tunnel first. We might find Professor Dumbledore," Ron suggested, turning down the side tunnel. Like the main tunnel, this one stretched straight back into the mountain. Ginny, Dudley and Hermione followed him until the tunnel ended in a wooden door that was held together with cast-iron fittings. Hermione cast _Alohomora_ and the door swung into the room beyond.

"Is he there?" Ginny asked anxiously as Hermione joined Ron and added her wandlight to his.

"No, it's just Professor Dumbledore," Ron replied. "He's not moving, though."

Hermione hastened to the headmaster's side and began checking his vital signs. "Ron, send your Patronus to Madam Pomfrey. Professor Dumbledore is barely alive," she said urgently.

A moment later, Ron's Terrier bounded out of the cell and disappeared down the main tunnel.

"Ron, Hermione," Ginny said, "Dudley and I are going to search the other side tunnel. I'll give a shout if we need you."

"Good luck," Hermione called as Ginny and Dudley left the cell.

The second side tunnel was exactly like the first, man-made and ram-rod straight. As they approached the wooden door at the end, Ginny could feel Harry's thoughts reaching out to her. They were very strong now and she fought to maintain her composure. Dudley kept glancing at her with an anxious look on his face.

"He's here, Dudley, I know it," she said as a wave of desolate thoughts washed over her. She forced them away as they reached the door. "Harry knows someone is outside_,_" she told him.

"Let's get this over with, then," he said brusquely.

She had just lifted her wand to cast the unlocking charm when more of Harry's thoughts flooded her mind. His thoughts were so filled with terror they caused her to drop her wand. Dudley caught her as her knees buckled and guided her gently to the ground.

"Are you all right?" he asked, concern evident in his tone. "Should I call for Ron?"

"Give me a second," Ginny gasped. "I'll be all right in a moment." She gazed determinedly at Dudley in the torchlight. "I have to be or we'll never get into that room."

Dudley looked at her doubtfully. "If you say so."

Harry's panic attack subsided and Ginny struggled to her feet, breathing deeply. She raised her wand and cast the unlocking spell. They heard the lock click and the door swung inwards. Ginny and Dudley looked at each other as they gathered their courage and walked inside.

The room they entered was the size of a Hogwarts classroom and was lit by a solitary candle that was suspended in mid-air. Ginny gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in horror. There, strapped to a long, thin table with his forehead positioned under a dripping stalactite, was Harry Potter.

**End of Chapter Nineteen**

**A/N:** Many thanks to my pre-betas GhostWriter and Jedi34 for their help with this chapter. I especially want to thank GhostWriter for coming up with the title for this chapter when I had no idea what to call it.


	20. 20 Rescue

**Chapter Twenty: Rescue**

Something was different. The Caterwauling Charm had gone off ages ago, but no one had come to the door. _Has Dumbledore died? _Harry thought._ Am I the only one left?_ A heightened feeling of disquiet stole over him.

Something was different. Someone was out in the tunnel beyond the door, but it wasn't Death Eaters and it definitely wasn't Voldemort because his scar didn't hurt more than it usually did these days. _If it isn't the Death Eaters who is it? Will they curse me or use Veritaserum to try to get Dumbledore's information?_ He listened harder.

Something was different, he could feel it, but he daren't open his eyes or let the Death Eaters know that he was lucid and fighting his fear-filled thoughts with every ounce of his will. If he screamed, they would laugh derisively and subject him to the drowning effects again, he just knew it. He waited some more and was rewarded a moment later when the door to the water room opened and two people entered.

"Oh, God!"

_That voice sounds like Dudley's._ _What's he doing here?_

"Ron! Hermione! He's here!"

_That's Ginny. I'd recognize her voice anywhere. _

A moment later she sobbed, "Oh, God, Harry!"

Footsteps running towards his table.

_It can't be. No, it isn't true. How can Ginny and Dudley be here? And Ron and Hermione? Here in this hell-hole with me? Are they prisoners, too?_ The idea sent Harry into pure, unadulterated terror and as another, heavier set of footsteps approached the table Harry began his backwards slide behind the walls he had built around his mind.

**oOo**

Something was different. The hands touching his face and body weren't callused or rough. The Death Eaters never touched him gently. He fought his Occlumency training to stay conscious. _Concentrate on the sounds, Potter…_

Sounds of someone opening a zip and then rummaging inside a pack. "Oh God, Dudley, he's cold as ice!" Gentle hands wiping his face dry with a soft cloth. "His forehead's bleeding! Blast this dripping water!"

"Do you have a plaster?"

"Why would I have one of those with me? I have my wand." Ginny sounded irritated. "I know my healing spells, Dudley. Anyway, a plaster wouldn't stick to his skin, as wet as it is."

Harry didn't hear Dudley's reply.

**oOo**

A little later, Dudley's calmly commanding voice jarred him back to reality as much as someone moving his table did. "Help me unstrap him." Strong hands gripped his ankles. "Bloody hell! No padlocks. How have the freaks locked him down?"

Ginny's answer came as a growl. "Sticking Charms. Locking Charms." The gentle tapping of a wand at each hand and foot. "_Finite Incantatem… Finite Incantatem… Finite Incantatem… Finite Incantatem!" _ One by one, the arm and leg restraints fell away. The pain of someone touching the raw patches on his wrists and ankles made it hard to concentrate. Harry's awareness slipped a little.

"_Finite Incantatem." _The head restraint was lifted away from his face. Harry sighed, let his head roll to the side and lost his battle with consciousness.

**oOo**

Ginny's panicked, urgent tones. "I can't get this one free. He's gripping the bar too tightly."

Hermione's calming timbre. "Try that warming spell you're so good at to relax his hand. He may not have feeling in his fingers."

Murmured words, warmth relaxing his grip, gentle fingers easing his right hand open. _Cast that spell on my shoulder,_ he pleaded silently as the gentle hands guided his right arm slowly to his side. He lay on the table unable to ease the ache in the shoulder.

**oOo**

Pain, intense pain in his left shoulder as someone tried to reposition his arm, holding only his hand. Harry whimpered.

Dudley intervened. "Careful, Hermione. That's his bad shoulder."

"But look how bloody and raw his wrist is!" she protested. "I don't want to hurt him."

Relief as strong hands supported his upper arm and elbow. Dudley's voice again, calm and reassuring, "We'll do it together. We won't hurt him this way. Slowly, steady, easy now… that's it. We'll lay the arm across his stomach."

New pain as blood began flowing freely down his arm into his hand. Harry lost touch with reality again.

**oOo**

The feeling of floating.

Madam Pomfrey's voice barking instructions.

A softer place to rest.

A drying spell on his clothes and hair.

Ron's voice saying, "Hang in there, mate. We're getting you out of here."

Small warm hands—Ginny's? —tucking something soft under his sides and round his feet, caressing him at every possible opportunity, the cocooning feeling of warm weight relaxing his body. He was so very tired.

**oOo**

Peter Pettigrew's shrill voice yelling, "You can't take him! _Expulso!_" A deafening crash, screams, yelled spells.

Ron bellowing, "That's Pettigrew! Don't let him transform!"

_Fighting? I can't help, not like this!_ Coloured light flickered past his closed eyelids. Harry, fearing for his life and the information Dumbledore had entrusted to him, sank completely behind the sheltering walls of his Occlumency shield.

**oOo**

Pain in his scar, threatening to split his head open. His head pounding with the force of the ocean. Voldemort in a towering rage, surrounded by Death Eaters who had gotten away.

"_They've taken Potter and Dumbledore? Why wasn't I informed earlier, Yaxley?"_ he roared.

"We only just escaped, my Lord," Yaxley explained fearfully.

"_You imbecile! You were in charge of getting that information! I needed the information Dumbledore gave Potter! You let him escape with it intact!"_ Voldemort raised his wand at Yaxley and shouted, "You'll pay for this! _Avada Kedavra!_"

Yaxley fell to the floor with a thump and the other Death Eaters broke out of their circle. They fled for the exits as Voldemort's wand slashed right and left, felling anyone not quick enough to get out of the way.

As the vision faded, a happy thought flitted through Harry's head - _Order of the Phoenix 2, Death Eaters 0._

**oOo**

_Harry can you hear me? You're safe now, love._ It sounded like Ginny trying to reach him through their connection, but he had been tricked before and he wouldn't be tricked again…

**oOo**

Later, warmth wormed its way under his Occlumency shield. It felt like little fingers of flame licking at the wall shielding his mind and body, as they would a burning log in the Gryffindor common room grate. He welcomed it, although at the same time it frightened him more than he wanted to admit. He sank back into the depths of his mind and waited for the next assault. It never came…

**oOo**

The next time he stirred, he felt warmth surrounding him like his childhood blanket had so long ago, softness where before there had only been hard surfaces. His forehead, back, shoulders, wrists and ankles still hurt, but he could move freely; he was no longer stuck to the table with a spell and his arms were no longer trapped above his head. Instead, they had been arranged loosely across his abdomen. A relieved sigh escaped him and he sank into the first true sleep since his abduction.

**oOo**

Voices penetrated his consciousness. He listened carefully, hoping against hope that the Death Eaters who held him captive were not waiting to pounce on him like they had the last time he had opened his eyes. He shuddered at the memory, causing whoever was speaking to stop.

A cautious voice said softly, "Get Madam Pomfrey," and was accompanied by the thump of big feet crossing a wooden floor and clattering down some nearby stairs. "Harry, dear, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand," the voice requested encouragingly.

He recognized the voice as Mrs Weasley's and felt his hand being lifted just a little as though someone didn't want to hurt him. Confused, he squeezed, and was rewarded when his hand was squeezed back. _Can it be? Am I safe?_

"Harry, dear, you're safe now. You're at the Burrow. If you trust me, open your eyes. No one is going to hurt you any more," Mrs Weasley's voice continued.

Did he dare open his eyes? The light coming through his closed lids seemed brighter; there was no dripping water driving him mad; he felt rested, less anxious. He wanted to trust the voice, he had to.

Slowly, Harry opened his eyes. He was greeted by the blurry, tear-stained face of Molly Weasley. She was holding his hand and crying quietly. "Welcome back, Harry. Thank you for trusting me," she sniffed. Harry tried to smile at her, unable to find his voice due to the incredibly large lump in his throat caused by the realization that he really was back at The Burrow and that he no longer needed to protect his mind quite so fiercely. Tiredness made his eyelids heavy. Mrs Weasley seemed to understand. "Go back to sleep, Harry. We can talk later," she said, letting go of his hand and beginning to rise.

His eyes flew open. He grabbed for her hand as she pulled away, catching her fingers and holding on for all he was worth. "Stay?" he whispered, his eyes searching her face.

Mrs Weasley sat back down, this time on the side of the bed. "Yes, Harry, I'll stay," she said, smiling tiredly. She brightened as she said, "I've sent for Ginny. She will be back after classes end for the day, I hope. She's anxious to see you." She gently rested her other hand on his head and stroked his fringe back from his forehead with her thumb.

Harry flinched at the touch and she murmured, "I'm sorry" as she moved the hand back to her lap. Harry closed his eyes, embarrassed by his reaction, but unable to deny that the gesture had made him wary of being hit or his head trapped and immobilized. However, her hand didn't leave his and Harry gratefully drifted back to sleep.

**oOo**

Mrs Weasley was still with him when he woke next. She had not let go of his hand, although she had shifted to a rocking chair beside the bed and was fast asleep with her head resting on a pillow wedged against the chair back. He wondered what day it was and how long he had slept.

Ignoring the pain in his shoulders, he pushed himself up on his elbows, causing Mrs Weasley to stir and look over at him. "Harry, dear, it's so good to see you awake," she said. She fluffed his pillows and then poured some water into a glass from a pitcher on the bedside table. "Would you like some?"

Harry nodded and tried to reach for the glass, but the effort seemed too great. "Where am I?" Harry croaked hoarsely. He didn't recognize the room, but it had the familiar feel of home.

Mrs Weasley held the glass to his lips and he took a small sip, savouring the fresh taste as it slid down his throat.

"We've put you up in Bill's old room, Harry. Dudley is staying in Fred and George's room now that Percy has decided to move back home for a bit," she informed him. He shook his head; all this information was almost too much to handle. The room began to spin and he closed his eyes against the motion. A few deep breaths righted the room and he opened his eyes again.

"Careful, now. You don't want to make yourself dizzy shaking your head like that too soon," Mrs Weasley cautioned, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Harry shied away from her hand. As comprehension dawned in her eyes she murmured, "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't think."

Harry let out a shaky breath and fell back onto his pillows, staring at the ceiling. "They hit me," was all he could manage to tell her.

Mrs Weasley sniffed loudly. "I know they did, Harry. One look at your face told us how you'd been treated," she said searching in her pocket for her handkerchief.

"Ginny saw me," Harry said flatly, feeling very self-conscious.

"Yes, she did. She and Dudley were the ones who found you. And if it makes any difference, all she cared about was getting you out alive," Mrs Weasley said fervently, dabbing at her eyes. "It was Dudley who was concerned with your injuries, though. He helped the others take you off that table they found you strapped to."

"I remember," Harry said, reaching up to touch his face. It felt normal, though a little bony as if he had been sick for some time. He supposed he had been. "Did Madam Pomfrey fix my face?"

"No, she didn't. By the time she reached you, Ginny and Hermione were nearly done. She fixed your teeth," Mrs Weasley answered, smiling, "only because Hermione didn't know the spell."

Harry snorted weakly and ran his tongue around his teeth. They were all there, they were all whole.

"All fixed, every last one of them," Mrs Weasley said, smiling.

"I'll have to thank them," Harry said, feeling a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

"Madam Pomfrey should be here after dinner. You can thank her then." Harry noticed she hadn't mentioned Ginny, Ron or Hermione. He wondered why, but didn't have the energy to ask.

Suddenly, Harry remembered Professor Dumbledore and felt his stomach clench. How could he have forgotten him? "Professor Dumbledore… I have to give him his potion!" he whispered urgently.

Mrs Weasley's face crumpled and Harry knew something terrible had happened. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said, "but Dumbledore is no longer with us."

"Where? The cave?" he asked, panic again rising inside him.

"No, Madam Pomfrey found a note in the Headmaster's robes requesting that he be taken to Hogwarts. He… he died there two days after we rescued you," Mrs Weasley half-sobbed. "The members of Dumbledore's Army were with him, though. Neville Longbottom set up a guard in the hospital wing and then one in Professor Dumbledore's private quarters. No Death Eater, not even Professor Snape, went past the DA guard."

Harry turned his face towards the wall feeling horribly forsaken. "He's gone," he murmured as a tear slid into his ear. "I didn't… say good-bye."

"Harry, dear, look at me, please," Mrs Weasley requested gently. Harry turned his head back to face her not bothering to force his grief into the recesses of his mind as he longed to do. "Harry, you did everything you possibly could to keep Dumbledore alive. Madam Pomfrey was astounded at how well you looked after him given the limited resources you had and the condition you yourself were in. She couldn't have done any better under the circumstances." She offered him a handkerchief.

She continued, "Dumbledore regained consciousness only briefly before he died and his only concern was for you, not himself. He seemed to sense that Hogwarts is a dangerous place for you right now and seemed happy that we'd brought you here. His last words were, 'Harry is free.'"

Harry tried to sit up again, despite the pain that wracked his limbs, and Mrs Weasley reached over with careful movements to help him do so. "Thanks," he murmured over the giant lump in his throat. He blew his nose. "When… when will his services be? I need… to be there…"

Mrs Weasley shook her head as she fluffed his pillows again. She helped him lay back on them. "There won't be any, not with Voldemort in charge of the Wizarding world," she said sadly as Harry's eyebrows disappeared under his fringe.

"And Fawkes?" Harry could hardly believe what he was hearing.

"Ginny and Ron said he sang for two days straight while the Death Eaters tried to find him. Then, he disappeared and Dumbledore's urn mysteriously appeared on your bookshelf two days ago." Mrs Weasley pointed across the room to an ornate pewter urn that sat on the shelf over the desk.

"He brought it to me? Why?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I think Fawkes trusted you, Harry. He knew you'd look after Dumbledore's remains and give him a proper service when all is said and done."

Harry couldn't speak. He just stared at the urn, wondering what he was supposed to do with it until he could have it interred at Godric's Hollow.

After a while, Mrs Weasley asked, "Can I get you anything? Another drink of water or some broth perhaps?"

His stomach rumbled at the thought of food. "Some broth would be good," he said.

Mrs Weasley pushed herself out of her rocking chair. "I'll be back in a bit," she said. "Door open or closed?"

Realizing that he had a choice, Harry answered, "Open, please."

She left it open and Harry leaned his head back against the bedboard, not caring whether those passing his room could see him cry; he knew they wouldn't hear the silent sobs that accompanied his thoughts:

_Dumbledore's gone, just as he said he would go…_

_I did all I could, but it just wasn't enough…_

_Fawkes has trusted me with Dumbledore's remains. Why?_

_I protected the information. The Death Eaters didn't get it…_

_What will Ginny think when she sees me like this? Wait, she **found** me…_

_Dumbledore's gone and Mrs Weasley is caring for me… I feel so helpless…_

Footsteps alerted Harry that someone was approaching his door and a moment later, Mrs Weasley appeared floating a tray loaded with food and drink in front of her. She set it on the bedside table and sat down in the rocker.

"Harry, I have your broth. Would you like me to help you or do you think you can handle the bowl yourself?" she asked a little too briskly and he could tell she was trying hard not to show she had noticed his tears.

He lifted a shaky hand. "I'd like to try," he said, desperately trying to sound normal.

She handed him the bowl. It was heavier than he had anticipated and he nearly dropped it. She helped him steady it as she gave him his spoon. He managed several shaky spoonfuls, but finally gave up after spilling most of it down his front. "I can't," he admitted, holding the bowl out to her with both hands. She took it, but instead of scooping up a spoonful to feed him, she set it on the tray and slid slowly onto the bed next to him.

"You're home now, Harry. You don't have to do everything, not for a while at least. Let Dudley and me help you get back to normal," she said, resting a gentle hand on his knee. Harry shifted nervously at her touch. "We, your family, missed you so much; we were so worried when you disappeared. I'm so glad you're alive…"

Silently, she leaned forwards and engulfed him in her embrace as sobs he could no longer hold back wracked his body. This time he didn't flinch. _I'm home now, I'm safe,_ Harry thought and lifted his own arms to return the hug. He had no concept of how much time passed, but finally, without letting go, he murmured, "Thank you, Mum." At his words, the woman whom he had come to associate with love and comfort began crying just as hard as he was.

**End of Chapter Twenty**

**A/N:** Ever since I read "Chapter 8: A Mother's Love" of Billie Bowtrunkle's _Consequence and Redemption_ in March of 2006, I've wanted to try my hand at writing a Molly-Weasley-comforts-hurt-Harry scene. I've read several such scenes over the last few years, some which were quite well done and others that sounded like a cheap imitation of the original. In every case, these scenes were written from Molly's point of view, and like Bowtrunkle's original, were all very touching because of the amount of love she showers on poor Harry. However, when I found myself staring at the outline for this chapter, knowing that I was about to make my attempt at writing this emotional scene, I made the decision not to tell it from Molly's point of view, but from Harry's. I knew that in no way could something I've written compare to the heart-tugging emotions that are involved in Bowtrunkle's chapter, but maybe if I told the tale through Harry's eyes it would be just as effective and almost as memorable. I hope you have enjoyed my attempt at writing this scene, because it is my desire that someone will remember it the way I remember the one that has stuck in my mind.

My standard list of thank yous applies as follows: many thanks to jedi34 and GhostWriter for their pre-beta comments and encouragement as I was writing this chapter. And Aggiebell, my beta, I'm so glad you liked the format of the chapter enough to get all teary-eyed and then tell me about it. And to my readers, thank you for being patient and understanding about the cliffhanger from the last chapter. I think you'll agree with me that there was no way than this to tell of Harry's rescue than this. I look forward to answering your comments. ~~Arnel


	21. 21 Healing

**Chapter Twenty-One: Healing**

As much as he felt compelled to get up and wander down to the kitchen to be with the Weasleys and Dudley, Harry discovered that his body just wouldn't cooperate. He felt extremely weak and ached all over; the smallest movements sapped every ounce of his strength. When he asked her about it, Mrs Weasley bluntly told him that he was still under the influence of some very powerful Dark potions that had been put into his food, plus the mental and physical stress he endured for so long.

"You'll just have to be patient, Harry," Mrs Weasley said matter-of-factly. "It's going to take time for the potions to work their way out of your system."

"Do I have a choice?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"I think you know that, dear," she replied. "I'm glad to see that you want to be up and about, though."

Harry smiled wanly. "I want to stay awake while Ginny is here later," he said quietly.

Mrs Weasley sat in the rocker. She looked sad as she said, "I'm sorry, but neither Ginny nor Ron nor Hermione have been able to get clearance to come home today, Harry. You see, Ginny wouldn't leave your side for three whole days after we brought you back here. She thought her presence would bring you back to us from wherever you had retreated mentally. It took Professor McGonagall threatening to kick her off the Quidditch team to get her back to school. Now, because of her reluctance to leave you, she's being disciplined for missing important lessons."

Harry let his head flop back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling, silently fuming. "I don't want anyone to be in trouble because of me," he muttered.

Mrs Weasley's stern voice made him look up. "She made her choices, Harry, and now she is dealing with the consequences." Her tone softened. "None of this is your fault; you are completely innocent. If I remember correctly, you had to make some pretty tough choices on your birthday, as did Professor Dumbledore. Ginny is learning from her choices just as you are. I'm now asking you to be patient and go along with the school's new authorities. Can you do that?"

Harry nodded. "Maybe I'll feel stronger when Ginny finally gets here," he said, sighing deeply.

Mrs Weasley patted his leg as Hedwig flew in the window, a rat clutched in her beak. "I'm sure you will, Harry," she said and left the room soon after. Harry fell into a fitful sleep to the comforting sounds of Hedwig's dinner.

Dudley was seated in the rocker typing on his laptop the next time Harry awoke.

"Homework," he muttered when he noticed Harry staring at him.

Dudley's presence startled him a little, not only because his cousin was built like several of the Death Eaters Harry had known, but because Dudley was in the room to begin with. Neither boy said much the first few times Harry awoke to find Dudley sitting with him, but eventually it dawned on Harry that his cousin might be waiting to speak with him about something. In the meantime, they kept each other company, something for which Harry was grateful. He disliked being alone these days.

Finally, it seemed that Dudley found the courage to broach whatever subject he wanted to talk about. "I need… I want… I need to thank those Death Eaters for something," he finally mumbled one evening, about a week after Harry had regained consciousness.

Harry, who had been dozing, opened his eyes and jerked his head towards his cousin. "What?"

Dudley fidgeted with an empty glass he was holding. "I… er… I… I've decided to join the Army," he finally muttered, glancing at Harry as if to gauge his reaction.

Harry stared at Dudley. "Why? I thought you were going to finish Smeltings and then take a job at Grunnings," he commented.

"I didn't go back to school this year," Dudley mumbled, meeting his gaze. "Long story."

"You don't have to tell me," Harry said. "But why the Army?"

Dudley looked back at his glass. "They do… important things. They rescue people. They protect our country. I… I want to do stuff like that, you know?"

Harry chose his words carefully as he said, "You liked being part of the planning and rescue teams, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did." Dudley smiled. "And I want to do more stuff like that."

"What do Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon think of your choice?"

Dudley didn't speak right away. "I haven't told them. We haven't spoken since the last day of August."

Surprised, Harry asked, "That long? Why?"

"That's the night Dad and I fought over my joining the search for you. We haven't spoken since," Dudley said, looking everywhere but at Harry. "He didn't want me to get involved, but I'd wanted to help out since we first learned you'd gone missing. It felt like… the right thing to do."

"I can understand that," Harry said slowly.

"I know that, but my dad doesn't. He thinks… Hell, I don't know what he thinks." Dudley stood up and began pacing the small room. "All I know is I'd finally found something worth doing and he wasn't going to let me do it." He stopped pacing and looked directly at Harry. "It's the same thing with the Army. I know it'll be hard, but I just can't see myself tethered to a desk like Dad is all day. Dad doesn't understand stuff like that, not like you or Mr Weasley," he added.

Dudley looked so uncomfortable that Harry tried to change the subject. "When will you be joining up?"

"I can enlist now. The minimum age is sixteen and a half, but unless you take your A Levels you don't get the good jobs."

"And you haven't taken those exams yet?" Harry asked thinking of the NEWTs he had yet to take.

"I would have taken them at the end of the spring term," Dudley replied.

"That's not until June," Harry observed. "What will you do until then?"

Dudley looked surprised that Harry would take an interest in his problems. "Well, I asked around a bit. I found some people down in the village who know about things like that. They got me into the sixth form college in Ottery St Mary, so I'll be able to take my exams even though I haven't finished Smeltings."

"Wow, Dudley. I never thought I'd say this, but you're really brave to do this on your own," Harry said, not bothering to keep the admiration from his voice. "How are you getting to Ottery St Mary?"

"There's one bus that goes between the two villages, once in the morning and once in the afternoon. I ride both," Dudley explained. "Classes started the second week of September, but because I'd miss some planning meetings, I wanted to take the course on line. There was nothing set up, so Tonks kept me up to date. She wants me to take my A Levels as much as Mr and Mrs Weasley do."

Harry was quiet for a time. "I'm really glad you know what you want to do with the rest of your life," he said softly.

"What?" Dudley quirked an eyebrow at him. "And you don't?"

Harry sighed hollowly. "Right now I can't make plans for my life past the big duel with Voldemort, so for all intents and purposes, I don't have a future."

Dudley looked at the floor. "What… what do you want to do if you win?"

"I was told I'd make a good Auror," Harry said, gazing out the window. "But I just don't know…"

Dudley sat down again, picked up his laptop and began typing. The two boys lapsed into silence. As Harry once again lost his battle with his heavy eyelids, he heard Dudley tell him, "I hope you win that duel."

**oOo**

Time, Harry decided, had a way of making things right again. Over the next two weeks, he slowly began feeling more like himself. He felt stronger and stayed awake a little longer each day, but his progress was so slow that he began to wonder if he'd ever get out of bed for more than five minutes at a time. Madam Pomfrey, who came often in the evenings to check on him, agreed when Harry mentioned this to her.

"You're completely justified with your concern, Harry," she said as she prepared to leave. "But it all comes down to those potions the Death Eaters put in your food. The enormous number of toxins left in your body has taken a long time to dissipate. Tonight's screening shows that they're finally down to a more tolerable level."

"So what does that mean, exactly?" Harry asked uneasily.

"It means that Mrs Weasley can stop worrying that the food she's preparing for you might cause an adverse reaction," she told him matter-of-factly.

"You mean she's been worrying about making me sick?" Harry asked, frowning.

"That's correct. Those potions were designed by a very crafty Potioneer to react to certain types of proteins and carbohydrates and if Mrs Weasley gave you as little as a tablespoonful of the wrong food you would most likely lapse into a coma."

Harry stared at Dumbledore's urn. "Now I understand why someone is always with me when I eat," he murmured as he finally understood the gravity of his situation.

Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat, drawing Harry's attention back to their conversation. "Molly tells me you've resumed doing your Occlumency exercises before bed. Are they helping at all?" she asked, changing the subject.

Harry shook his head. "No," he admitted, "but I'm fine. Really…"

The scowl on Madam Pomfrey's face told Harry he'd just said something stupid. "Recovery from an ordeal such as yours is going to take time, Harry. I know you're having nightmares and that you sleep with the lights on. You've just admitted the Occlumency exercises aren't helping." She sighed. "You don't have to shoulder the after-effects of your kidnapping alone, Harry. There are people in this house who want to help you, but if you don't share your hurts and fears we have no way of knowing what will help and what won't."

Harry felt defiant as he said angrily, "I don't need help. I can do this on my own."

"Horse feathers! I don't believe that for a minute." She perched on the end of Harry's bed and stared him in the eye. "You wouldn't have started this conversation if you didn't want help. Now make that request I know you're bursting to make so I can go back to Hogwarts."

Harry sighed. "All right. I actually have two." Madam Pomfrey waited. "I want to go downstairs."

"I agree it's time, so tomorrow you shall go."

"And I want to see Ginny."

"That's easier said than done these days. I'll see what I can do, because I can see you both desperately need some time together," Madam Pomfrey said sadly.

Alarmed, Harry asked, "What's wrong with Ginny? Why can't she come home?"

"She wants to come home, but can't get permission. Hogwarts is more like Azkaban than ever these days. I only hope the Death Eaters don't kill someone before the year is out," Madam Pomfrey said more to herself than to Harry.

He could see how concerned she was and more than anything else, it made him determined to physically recover by Christmas. The sooner he could finish the task Dumbledore had entrusted to him, the better.

Therefore, despite being bothered by dark rooms and nightmares and constantly shying away from anyone who wanted to touch him, Harry pushed himself to regain the body he'd lost during his captivity. Progress was slow, measured at first by the number of stairs he could negotiate each day until one day in the middle of December he found himself sitting at the kitchen table enjoying lunch with Mrs Weasley for the first time since his rescue nearly two months earlier. That night, much to his delight, he was sitting by the hearth as first Ron, then Hermione and finally Ginny spun to a stop and emerged from the Floo.

As Ginny began brushing off the soot, Harry rose to his feet and stood quietly with his arms held wide until she looked up. She gasped in surprise, happiness replacing the tiredness in her face.

"Harry!" she exclaimed and then, with the blazing look Harry always associated with a happy Ginny, she was in his arms and they were kissing.

"I'm missed you," she gasped between kisses.

Harry clung to her, unable to speak. Feelings he'd buried deep within himself during his captivity were stirring as the connection Ginny had forged through their necklaces rekindled with every touch of her lips.

Ginny must have felt it, too, for she broke the kiss and nestled her head on his chest murmuring, "I thought I'd lost you."

Harry kissed the top of her head. "I may have lost the phoenix, but you didn't lose me."

Ginny's head jerked upwards. "What happened to it?"

Harry sighed. "I don't know. The Death Eaters may have discovered it when they were attaching me to that table. I haven't seen it in a very long time."

Ginny stepped back, fumbling in her pocket. When she held up his phoenix pendant, Harry felt his eyes grow wide. "What— Where— How?" he sputtered, unable to reign in his astonishment.

She grinned as she undid the clasp and secured the necklace around his neck. "You gave it back to me for safe-keeping last summer. You didn't lose it and the Death Eaters _definitely_ didn't take it."

The pendant had melted from sight as it had settled around his neck, but he could feel its magic, solid and comforting, suffusing through his body, helping to heal the damage the Death Eaters had inflicted. "Thank you, Ginny," he murmured, taking her in his arms again and holding her close. "Thank you for keeping it for me."

Ron cleared his throat, causing them to let go of each other. "Budge over, Ginny. You can snog Harry's brains out later," he interrupted. "Let Hermione and me have a little time with him too."

Ginny blushed prettily and trailed a hand down Harry's arm, her fingertips lingering in his as she stepped back. The sultry look in her eyes made him smile. "We'll talk more later on," she murmured.

Hermione now came over and opened her arms slowly, inviting him into her embrace.

"I won't break," Harry told her as he stepped forwards.

Her expression was cautious as she said, "We were told you don't like being touched any more."

Harry sighed. "Generally I don't, but it's different with the two of you. I owe you my life. I know you won't hurt me," he told her, trying to help her understand. "Please, I need you both."

That was all the encouragement Hermione needed. She rapidly closed the distance between them and threw her arms round him. "We'll try our best to help you through this," she promised.

Harry looked at Ron over Hermione's head and found him waiting for his turn. As Hermione left to put her things in Ginny's room, Harry extended a hand to his best friend. Ron grasped it tightly and used it to pull Harry into another hug. Slapping him loudly on the back he said gruffly, so only Harry could hear, "Don't you ever scare us like that again, you hear?"

Taken aback by the depth of Ron's greeting, Harry could only say, "Er…"

Mrs Weasley chose that moment call to Ron to take his and Ginny's things up to their rooms before dinner. As Ron disappeared up the stairs Harry held out his arm to Ginny. "Let's go help your mum," he said. "I can't remember exactly where she keeps the silver and the plates."

Ginny closed her fingers gently around his arm and together they went into the kitchen, Harry leaning heavily on her for support. She seemed to understand his intentions and guided him to his chair where he sat until she had gathered everything he needed to lay the table. Mrs Weasley smiled her thanks and soon had Ginny carrying over platters and bowls loaded with food for the meal. When everything was ready, she called the rest of the family and soon everyone was gathered round the veritable feast she had prepared.

Harry found himself sandwiched between Ron and Ginny who both looked very concerned when he took only small amounts of everything. Harry decided to make light of his situation instead of troubling them with the bald fact that food still didn't taste right or sit well in his stomach sometimes. Smiling over at Ginny he told her, "I taste everything and let Dudley eat what I don't want." He heard Dudley snort into his plate as he added, "What Dudley doesn't eat, Ron will."

From his other side, Ron exclaimed, "Oi, that's not fair!" which had the rest of the table joining in Harry's laughter.

After dinner everyone gathered in the lounge. Ron set up the chess board and challenged Percy to a game with Dudley and Hermione as their cheering section. Harry and Ginny chose a corner of the sofa while Mrs Weasley charmed one set of knitting needles and then took up a second pair and Mr Weasley read a book Hermione had given him before dinner. The peaceful scene gave Harry a sense of great contentment, but he knew he wouldn't be enjoying it for long; the familiar heaviness was tugging at his eyelids and he soon leaned his head back against the cushions.

"Harry," Ginny said, patting her lap, "why don't you rest your head here?"

He raised an eyebrow at her as he asked, "You sure? I'm likely to fall asleep."

"No matter," she told him, a smile curving her lips upward. "I like it when you're near enough to run my fingers through your hair. Besides, I hear this has been a big day for you, coming downstairs twice. I want to hear all about it."

Harry lay down and put his head in Ginny's lap. "It was. My goal for the day was just to have lunch down here, and I think I more than surpassed it." His eyes fluttered closed. "I just wish I didn't get so tired so easily."

"It's OK to be tired, Harry. You're still recovering. Madam Pomfrey has been keeping me updated on your progress and she seems very happy with how you're doing," Ginny said. She ran a hand through his hair and he sighed contentedly. "You… you look so much better than you did when we found you," she continued, keeping her voice low. "Madam Pomfrey's reports have been my life-line these last two months. I've been so worried…"

Harry opened his eyes. "Now you know I am better, Ginny," he said. "Seeing you has made all the difference in the world," he added believing every word.

Ginny's eyes shone with unshed tears. "Oh Harry, do you really mean that?"

"I do. When I held you earlier I could feel us reconnecting and even though I'm worn out right now, something inside me just wants to go, go, go!" he said, revelling in realization that he actually did feel stronger somehow. _Maybe it's the fact that I'm wearing her phoenix pendant again… I hope so…_

She eyed him curiously. "Have you… have you tried doing magic lately?"

"No, how could I? I Banished my wand somewhere to keep the Death Eaters from getting it and the little wand Dumbledore had—" he inhaled sharply at the memory "—wasn't very powerful at all even though it was dead useful."

Ginny shifted and pulled something from her pocket. She held it out to him saying, "This might help."

Harry couldn't believe what he was seeing. "My wand!" he gasped in wide-eyed wonder as he reached up to take it from her. The worn wood felt warm in his grasp and his hand tingled as he felt the magic flow between the two. "How… how did you get it?" he breathed, feeling suddenly complete.

A tear slid down Ginny's nose and she brushed it aside. "It appeared right in front of me on the afternoon of your birthday," she said in a choked voice. "That was how I knew something had happened to you. I knew you'd part with it only if you were in terrible trouble." She looked away, crying softly. "It was the worst moment of my life," she sobbed, loud enough to draw the attention of the others in the room.

Harry sat up and, still holding his wand, enfolded Ginny in his arms. Over her shoulder he caught Ron's eye and saw that the other boy was smiling and holding Hermione's hand as she, too, sniffed and conjured a handkerchief.

Eventually, Ginny stopped crying. Harry held her close until she suggested they go up to bed. They bid the others good-night and as they started up the dark staircase, Harry lit his wand.

"I had no idea how much I missed this," he commented as they paused on the landing outside Ginny's door.

"It was like a piece of you was missing, right?" she asked.

Startled, he asked, "Yeah. How do you know that?"

Ginny studied the worn patches in the wooden floor. "I didn't feel whole while you were missing," she admitted. She looked back up at him with a mischievous look in her eyes. "Hedwig and I missed you so much that we kept your things exactly where you left them in your suite this summer. She protected them while I was in class. When Mum sent word that Hedwig had to come here, I packed everything—eventhepillowthatsmelledlike you—and kept it locked in my trunk until I could give them back. Would you like your trunk and your rucksack now or tomorrow?"

Harry's ears had suddenly become hot at the mention of his pillow. Now he sputtered, "I—I'd like them now, please."

Ginny opened the door and led him inside. Harry had never been in her room, so he looked around curiously. The walls, which were painted a pale yellow, were covered in still pictures of magical creatures. Harry found a hippogriff, several unicorns, two dragons and a family of owls. Ginny's bed was nestled in the far corner and over it hung a large notice board which she had covered in Wizarding pictures and a poster of the Holyhead Harpies. Another poster, this one of the Weird Sisters, adorned the wall opposite and was surrounded by the family of owls. Most of the pictures on the notice board were of the Weasley family, but there were more than a few of himself, Hermione, Luna, Neville and several of her other friends, all taken at Hogwarts. Harry leaned against the wardrobe and let the feeling of the room wash over him.

"I like your room," he told her as she unlocked her trunk and extracted two tiny objects.

She handed him his trunk and rucksack. "Charlie painted the creatures for me about ten years ago," she said, sitting on the corner of her bed and letting her gaze travel over the walls. "Mum had originally painted the room pink with multi-coloured butterflies flitting around, but their motion made me sick so often that we convinced her to let him redecorate for me. I had him leave a small patch unpainted; it's there in the corner." Ginny pointed to the corner behind the door and Harry hazarded a glance. Ginny was right; the motion of the butterflies made his stomach feel a little woozy. "Mum was rather chagrined at my choice of decorations, but she's let me keep them and now this room wouldn't feel like mine if I took them down."

Harry smiled. "I like them," he said. "They fit you better than the butterflies." He yawned hugely. "Thanks for keeping these for me, Ginny." He waved the tiny trunk at her and turned towards the door, pausing when he remembered there should have been a third object. "Oh, where's the pillow?"

Ginny blushed. "It's on my bed at Hogwarts," she squeaked. Her admission made him feel warm and happy inside.

"Good, just where it should stay," he said, surprising her. "I'll see you in the morning, then?"

Ginny crossed the room and stopped in front of him, her eyes asking permission to do something. "There's no need to be shy about hugging me, Ginny," he said, stepping closer and opening his arms. They came together and shared a chaste kiss, one that was much slower and definitely less frantic than their earlier one. They only broke apart when he felt her shudder. Tears were again rolling silently down her cheeks. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just so happy right now, Harry," she sniffed.

"Me, too," he said as she gently pushed out of his arms. He turned to go upstairs.

"I love you," they said together and suddenly they were giggling and holding each other again. They shared one last kiss before they parted.

That night, Harry had only pleasant dreams.

**oOo**

The next day, despite the fact that he wanted to spend as much time with Ginny as he possibly could, Harry sought out Ron and Hermione. When he finally found them alone in Ron's room early in the afternoon, he locked and sound-proofed the door.

"What's up?" Ron asked as Harry sank onto the bed.

"Voldemort," Harry said shortly.

"What about You Know Who?" Hermione asked. Harry raised a questioning eyebrow, but she ignored it.

Briefly, Harry told them about the information Professor Dumbledore had entrusted to him. He ended his report saying, "I think I'll be strong enough by New Year's Eve to go to the graveyard. Can I count on you two to watch my back?"

"Of course," Hermione said, as Ron said, "You bet."

"Thanks," Harry said, meaning it with all his heart.

"You know we're always up for the challenge," Ron said.

"I know you are," Harry said, yawning. Hermione's eyebrows rose a little. "I'm going down to take a quick nap," Harry explained. He flicked his wand, cancelling the sound-proofing and unsealing the door.

"We'll see you later, then," she said.

"Later," Harry said, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the wall feeling weak and apprehensive. Doing magic was taking more out of him than he liked to admit. _I've got to do this… I promised Dumbledore… I just don't know if I'll be strong enough._

He made his way down to his bedroom and lay down on his bed. _No doubts, Potter. You'll be ready. You have to be…_ On that note, Harry drifted off to sleep.

**oOo**

Ron, Hermione and Ginny left after dinner on Sunday. The four teens clung to each other until Mr Weasley reminded them that Professor McGonagall was waiting in her office for them.

Ginny let Ron and Hermione go before her, lingering next to Harry, her hand in his.

"I'll see you next weekend," Harry said, giving her a little shove towards the hearth. She nodded and stepped into the flames and Harry climbed the stairs to bed without a word to anyone else.

He was awakened the next morning by Dudley pounding on his door. The sound reminded Harry of how he used to wake up when they lived on Privet Drive and he cringed when his cousin did a perfect imitation of Uncle Vernon yelling, "Wake up, boy! You have a visitor downstairs."

Harry scrambled out of bed and was soon clattering down to the kitchen. He grinned when he discovered who his visitor was. "It's good to see you, Mr Dumbledore," he said, sitting across from the elderly barkeep.

"Please, call me Aberforth. Mr Dumbledore was my brother," he said. "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing all right," Harry said warily. "What brings you so far south?"

Aberforth sighed. "Unpleasant business that I've been putting off for far too long even though the Ministry Death Eaters threatened to confiscate them," he said, extracting two tiny wooden boxes from his waistcoat pocket and setting them on the table. "Come to the pub when you get back to school and I'll tell you all about it," he added when Harry raised an eyebrow.

Aberforth pulled out his wand and returned the boxes to their normal size: one, a beautifully carved case, was long and thin while the other was large and square. "Harry, I think you know what these contain. My brother left instructions that they be delivered by me to you and only you." He opened the case and took out a piece of official-looking parchment. "My solicitor has asked me to have you sign this Receipt of Transfer that certifies that you are indeed Harry James Potter and that I have hand delivered both boxes to you in person."

Harry read the parchment's archaic language, which made no sense to him at all. Finally, he glanced at Mr Weasley, who had taken a seat a little way down the table, for help. Mr Weasley moved closer and took the parchment. "It's as he says, Harry. It's all right to sign it," he said, handing Harry a bent quill and a small bottle of ink. Harry signed and gave the parchment back. Aberforth shoved the boxes across the table.

"There's one other thing I'd like to discuss with you, Harry," Aberforth said, looking uncomfortable. "Last July, I believe you went with my brother to our family home. Am I correct?" Harry nodded. "Well, I have inherited the place and don't want the property."

"Why don't you want it?" Harry asked, stunned.

"Can't stand the place," Aberforth said gruffly. "Too many unpleasant memories left over from a very long time ago." He pulled a key ring from his pocket and put it on the table. "For the price of one Galleon I'm willing to sell you the house, its contents minus the portrait of my sister that hangs above the sitting room fireplace, and the grounds. Will you assent to this transaction?"

Harry stared first at Aberforth, and then at Mr Weasley. Both men looked at him expectantly. "What will happen to the property if I don't buy it?" he asked.

"I'll sell the place at auction for whatever I can get for it," Aberforth told him. "However, I know my brother would rather I sold it to you. Much of what is in that house was accumulated by him, and I don't know enough about the contents to make any decisions about what to keep and what to throw away."

"What would I do with a _second_ house? I already own one," Harry protested, thinking of the house at number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

"You'll never live in the Godric's Hollow Potter house, Harry," Aberforth said, smiling. "The villagers would throw such a wobbly if you privatized their shrine to your parents that you'd be run out of town."

"I hadn't thought of that," Harry said. He looked at the key ring and then at Mr Weasley's neutral expression, knowing that he wasn't going to get any help from him. Finally, Harry asked, "Mr Weasley, may I borrow a Galleon, please? I'll pay you back as soon as I can get upstairs to my trunk."

Mr Weasley fished in his pocket for the coin and handed it to Harry who passed it across the table to Aberforth. The old man pocketed it, took out another piece of parchment and passed it and the key ring back across the table to Harry. "Thank you, Harry," he said. "I know Albus is up there somewhere cheering. You can take up to ten days to sign that parchment and get it back to the solicitor in Godric's Hollow." When Harry nodded, he pushed away from the table and stuck out his hand for Harry to shake. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, Harry. When the war is over we'll give my brother a proper send-off. You, of all people, deserve to have that chapter of your life properly closed."

Harry followed Aberforth to the fireplace. "I couldn't agree with you more, sir," he said. A moment later, Aberforth Dumbledore was gone and Harry was left standing before the empty fireplace, staring at the key to his second house.

**End of Chapter Twenty-One**

**A/N:** It seems that sometimes we authors are given ideas for our stories through ordinary, every-day conversations. So it is with this chapter. Through a series of IM sessions with my friend Kelleypen concerning her son who enlisted in the US Army, I conceived the idea of Dudley joining the British Army after he didn't go back to Smeltings. Therefore, thank you Kelleypen for your friendship and pre-beta help as well as your encouragement. I also owe a big thank you to another IM friend, Athar, who helped me find the enlistment requirements for the British Army. She was also a big help with straightening me out about which exams were necessary and where a school drop-out could get the necessary education to take his A Levels. The conversation we had netted me more information in seven minutes than a whole hour of searching the internet did!

I also need to thank Jedi34 and GhostWriter for the splendid pre-beta job they did on this chapter. Their encouraging remarks keep me going when I get discouraged over the writing of a chapter and they both leant a sympathetic ear when I was having trouble finding the information I needed for the chapter. The other person I'm sending thank yous to is Aggiebell, my beta. We had a couple of discussions about the use of certain verbs in this chapter and finally came to a consensus. Thanks Aggiebell for keeping me on my toes!


	22. 22 Home for the Holidays

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Home for the Holidays**

**A/N: This chapter was originally supposed to be just twelve pages long. However, half way through the first draft, I realized there was much more to this part of the story than what I had written in the outline and that the chapter would have to be split into several if I was to tell it properly. Therefore, this chapter and the next three will be told from Ginny's point of view. I promise that Harry gets his chance to add his perspective in Chapter Twenty-Six, one of the more pivotal chapters in this story.**

_Noooo. I dowanna. Doemayme. Nooooo. Lemme alooooooone!_

Someone was moaning in their sleep. Ginny, now fully awake, turned over on her stomach and pulled her pillow over her head. The mournful sounds continued.

_Geroff me! Help! Sumun helme! NOOOOOO!_

Ginny looked at her alarm clock and discovered it was only a little past midnight, thank goodness. She listened again. The sounds were definitely not coming from any of her sleeping room mates, so she concluded that only one person could be moaning in her head. She decided to wake him.

_Harry! HARRY! _Ginny yelled. _ WAKE UP! _

The moaning stopped as Harry stirred. She tried again, a little less urgently this time.

_Harry, wake up. You're having another nightmare._

Harry finally woke up enough to respond. _Huh? What? Oh… Ginny?_

_Yes, it's me. Did you turn off the light again?_

_Oh, yeah. I guess I did since it's dark in here._

_Well, do me a favour and turn it back on. I have a Potions test in the morning and I can't afford to fall asleep over my cauldron,_ she told him testily.

_Sorry, Ginny. Damn… I'm all twisted up in my bedclothes! Help! _

Ginny started giggling. She couldn't help it.

_What's so funny?_ Harry demanded. _Ergh! Where's my wand?_

_Try under your pillow,_ she suggested. After a moment, Harry replied. _Light's on._

_Good. Why did you turn them off? _Ginny asked, fluffing her pillow and preparing to settle back in.

She felt Harry sigh. _ I wanted to see if I could sleep like a normal person. I guess my experiment didn't work._

_No, it didn't, Harry. Do you want to talk about it?_

_The dream? No._

_Your call, Harry._ She paused, then asked, _Do you want me to help you get back to sleep?_

_That would be nice. Thanks._

_Hmm…let's see… Which would you prefer? Lists of potions ingredients and their functions in various types of potions or something else?_ she asked, smiling to herself.

She could almost feel him laughing as he told her, _If you need to revise I'll listen, but I'd prefer something else._

_I thought so, _she said. _How about this?_ Ginny concentrated on some of her more pleasant memories from the past summer, images of the two of them strolling by the lake and sitting under the stands at the Quidditch stadium. In turn, Harry surprised her by sending his own image of them snuggling by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room the morning after his trip into the Chamber of Secrets.

_Is this helping?_ she asked after a while.

_Yeah, it is. Thanks. I'm sorry I woke you up. _Harry responded. _I can hardly wait to see you again._

She sighed. _I'll be home in two days, Harry. Can you hold on until then?_

_Yeah, I think I can. Good night, Ginny._

_Good night, Harry._

**oOo**

Two days later, just five days before Christmas, Ron, Ginny and Hermione boarded the Hogwarts Express, eager to get home to The Burrow. Hermione was staying with the Weasleys this year because her parents had decided to join some dentist colleagues at a Jamaican resort that was for adults only. When she had read her mother's letter explaining the situation, Hermione had grumbled about not being included even though she could legally drink at age eighteen in Jamaica and immediately accepted Ginny's invitation to join her family for the holidays.

Now, as they hurried along the corridors searching for an empty compartment, Ginny shuddered, unable to escape the feeling that eyes were watching her from behind. When she was sure no one else could overhear, she remarked about it to Ron.

"I think there are Death Eaters on the train," he whispered.

"Thank goodness, no Dementors," Ginny shot back, feeling slightly relieved. "Death Eaters I can deal with, but still, I hope the train _flies_ to London. The sooner we get there, the better."

They finally found a compartment in the last coach and were soon joined by Luna and Neville.

"Just like old times," Neville remarked, shoving his trunk into the luggage rack and making a quick dive for Trevor as the toad tried to escape under the seat.

"What do you mean?" Luna asked, looking puzzled. "There's never been Death Eaters on the train before."

"Oh, Luna, he only meant that this is about the eighth time we've all ridden in a compartment together," Ginny explained. "Isn't that right, Neville?"

"Uh-huh," Neville replied over his copy of _Herbology Today_. Luna pulled out _The Quibbler_, turned it upside down and began reading herself, leaving Ron, Ginny and Hermione to stare out the window as the Hogwarts Express began chugging out of the station.

The ride was pleasant enough, though rather chilly because someone kept leaving the door open at the end of the corridor. Ginny had just taken her turn closing it when commotion farther up the coach disturbed the peace of their compartment and the train slowed to a stop. Several minutes later, she and the others watched in horror as two armed and hooded Death Eaters passed their door, two students, bound and gagged and dangling from a pole, between them.

"That—that was Gail Shearer and Georgette Spencer!" exclaimed Ginny as the coach door closed behind them. "What did they do that the Death Eaters would take them away like that?"

Hermione thrust her copy of _The Daily Prophet_ into Ginny's hands and pointed at the main article entitled, **Shearer and Spencer Speak Out Against the Ministry**. "I think the families are being punished," she whispered.

An eerie silence filled the compartment as the train began moving again. No one spoke until they met Mr Weasley at the platform in King's Cross Station.

**oOo**

They found The Burrow in chaos. All of the ground floor windows were open and something white was drifting through them.

Ginny nudged Ron and together they said, "Fred and George!" causing Hermione to giggle.

The aroma of Mrs Weasley's baking issuing from the kitchen made their mouths water as the entered the house, even as the cloud of flour sent them into fits of sneezing. It didn't help to see Fred and George emerging from behind the counter looking like ghosts and apologizing profusely for causing the explosion that had covered every surface with a fine coating of the white stuff. The only thing that seemed to have saved the twins from a maternal tongue-lashing was the group's arrival, so the pair quickly whipped out their wands and siphoned the flour back into its container… behind their mother's back as she bustled towards the group standing just inside the front door.

Mrs Weasley greeted them at the door with a sneeze, a hug and separate lists of things everyone was to get done before dinner so that no one had to sleep on the sitting room sofa… at least until Bill and Fleur showed up in three days' time. As she looked over her list—bake four loaves of bread, help Hermione change the sheets on both beds in their room, rid the sitting room of excess flour, this last item appearing magically as her mother gave her the list—Ginny glanced up to see Harry emerging from the flour cloud.

"All my stuff is in Ron's room now, Mrs Weasley," he said, coming fully into the sitting room. "I'll help Dudley with the Christmas decorations when he gets home from the library." His face lit up as he spied Ginny and quickly crossed the room to greet her. "I'm so glad you're here!" he said, taking her into his arms and brushing some flour from her shoulder.

Ginny hugged him back. "You're looking fit," she replied happily, so that only he could hear.

"Knowing you were coming home for two weeks helped me a lot," he said just as softly. "I'm feeling so much stronger."

"Mmmm, I'm so glad I could help," she murmured in his ear. She tightened her arms around his waist and momentarily laid her head on his chest.

He suddenly pulled away as Ron burst out, "You've given me the chicken coop _again?_ Why do I always have to muck out those bloody birds?"

"Watch your language, Ronald," Mrs Weasley cried, pointing a finger at him. "Would you rather clean out the oven the Muggle way before Ginny starts the baking?"

Ron threw up his hands and took a step backwards. "No way am I setting foot in that kitchen other than to eat! Especially with those two here," he said, pointing at his brothers and making Hermione giggle. He scowled at her as he said a little more contritely, "All right, I'll do the coop. Just let me go change."

Satisfied, Mrs Weasley drew her wand and Banished all the school trunks to their various bedrooms. Ron shook hands with Harry and then disappeared up the stairs to change. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw Fred and George sneaking out the back door and suppressed a twitter of laughter at the twins' hasty exit.

_Avoiding Mum… Just like when we were little,_ she thought. _It's so good to be home!_

**oOo**

The atmosphere at the dinner table that evening was tense. All the young people wanted to know more about what was really going on at the Ministry, and Ginny's parents seemed very reluctant to pursue the subject, at least until the meal was finished. When her parents at last exchanged looks across the long expanse of the table, Ginny knew the news wasn't good.

Her father sighed and said, "We can't keep this from you any longer, especially now that you're home. We, your mother and I, need to make several things quite clear." All heads swivelled in his direction, everyone's attention focused on what he was about to say. "First, I must warn you not to say _the name_. If you do, Ministry-appointed groups of wizards will hunt down the offender and throw him or her into Azkaban without a hearing. If you must talk about him, use only the common terms the Wizarding world has used for the last two decades."

"Any special reason why?" Harry enquired. "This is the first time you've said anything about it since I've been here."

"A taboo has been put on _the name_ to help the Death Eaters weed out those opposed to the new administration and the wizard backing it," Mr Weasley said gravely. "We haven't said anything since you've been here because we haven't broached the subject, Harry."

"We thought it would be a difficult subject for you," Mrs Weasley explained. Ginny recognized the protective gleam in her mother's eyes and hid her smile behind her glass of pumpkin juice. "We also needed to impress upon all of you how serious the situation is," Mrs Weasley continued. Her gaze included everyone at the table as she added, "I need promises from all of you that you'll practice constant vigilance while you're here." She smiled at Mr Weasley as those around the table promised to be careful.

He cleared his throat. "Second, You-Know-Who is having his followers round up the children of anyone who opposes his regime. Because of my penchant for all things Muggle, my association with the Order, and, unfortunately, with Harry as well, I… I'm being watched."

The occupants of the table burst into indignant exclamations and it was a while before anyone could hear Mr Weasley above the din.

"There's more…" he continued as his audience quieted. "The Minister of Magic, Cory Pembroke, for intents and purposes, is a puppet. Everything he does is controlled by the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who; one of the first decrees he made was mandating the kidnapping of children of the opposition to make those who speak out against the Ministry toe the line."

Ginny felt her stomach drop. "What's… where are they taking the children?" she asked, feeling rather weak. "Two girls from my year were taken off the train around three o'clock today."

Mr Weasley sighed. "We don't know where the Death Eaters are taking the children. If you're correct, then the two newest detainees raise the number to thirty-five since September."

"Their poor families…" murmured Mrs Weasley.

"It gets worse," Percy said grimly. "The last issue is the most frightening." Ginny and the others stared uneasily at Percy. _If he knows about it, it can't be good,_ she thought.

"It was implemented in September," Mr Weasley said, his gaze falling first on Harry and then Hermione. "It's an official governmental decree that mandates the registration of half-bloods and Muggle-borns." A gasp went round the table; Ginny watched the blood drain from both Harry and Ron's faces. Hermione buried her face in her hands.

"I… I have to register?" Harry croaked in disbelief. Mr Weasley nodded solemnly.

"And Hermione, too?" Ron whispered, looking stricken. He turned to Hermione who didn't look up. "So that's what was in the letter you got from the Ministry on Wednesday. Hermione, I wish you'd told me!" She nodded faintly as he addressed the table at large again. "She wouldn't show it to me and she's been distracted ever since."

Hermione raised her head and looked at Ron, her expression bleak. "That wasn't the first letter I'd received, Ron," she said quietly. "It was the third."

Furious, Ron demanded, "Why didn't you tell me about the others?"

"You couldn't have helped me and I might have put you in danger if they'd known I'd shown it to you. You know how many spies there are at Hogwarts now. If someone had heard us discussing my letters, something might have happened," she said calmly. "I went to Professor McGonagall for advice instead. I haven't registered yet because she advised me not to do so. I've been on their list of Unregistered Muggle-borns since right before we rescued Harry."

"Why didn't she have you register?" Harry asked.

"So far, Professor Snape has been keeping the Hogwarts gates sealed and the students safe from the Ministry," Hermione replied. "So far, as long as they can't find us, the half-bloods and Muggle-borns have been safe."

"I don't get it," Ron interrupted, looking at Hermione. "How come the Death Eaters that were on the train didn't try to force you to register while we were on it? If they were taking students off because of things their parents did, why didn't they take you, too?"

Hermione shook her head. "I have no real answer for that," she sighed. "My guess is that the Hogwarts Express is the property of the school and Professor Snape extended his protection to the students while they were on it."

"And because Dad actually met us at the door of the carriage," Ginny speculated, "the Death Eaters had no chance to elbow their way into our group and make you register."

"A good thing, too," muttered Ron as he put his arm around Hermione's shoulders.

Harry pushed back from the table and stood up abruptly. He began pacing the length of the table as he said resolutely, "I'm not going to register." He looked directly at Hermione. "And neither are you. They're only trying to get at me, flush me out into the open, especially now that I have escaped their clutches, by treating my friends… my family… as non-citizens." He focused his attention on Mr Weasley. "What are we signing ourselves up for, exactly, if we do register?"

The group held its breath as Mr Weasley answered, "If your answers to their ancestry questionnaire comply with theirs, those who register are branded with a Ministry serial number, have their wands commandeered and are sent on their way to cope with everyday life as best they can without a wand. Those whose answers are found deficient are branded, their wands are snapped in front of them and they are immediately sent to Azkaban without trial."

"That's not fair!" Fred exclaimed loudly as George added, "Completely uncalled for."

"Why are they taking or snapping people's wands?" Ginny asked more calmly than she felt. "Is it because half-bloods and Muggle-borns are thought of as polluting magical blood?"

Before Mr Weasley could answer, Percy said woodenly, "No, Ginny. It is the view of the new Minister of Magic that Muggle-born and half-blood wizards have appropriated their magical skill through dubious means. This is a punishable offence, with a term of incarceration of no fewer that three months levied at the time of discovery with no chance of appeal. Most will never see freedom again under this regime."

Hermione spoke, her voice several notes higher than usual. "Percy, do you truly believe that?"

Percy shook his head. "No, Hermione, I don't. It was one of the last Decrees I worked on with Delores Umbridge who, at the time I was forced to leave the Ministry, was pushing Minister Scrimgeour to sign it into law, I'm ashamed to admit," he said hollowly. "I was forced to work on the Decree despite my feelings against it, so I tried everything I could think of to sabotage the legislation." His voice took on a note of pride. "I nearly succeeded, too. At my urging, Minister Scrimgeour refused to sign it along with five or six others we both found repulsive because they restricted the freedom of the populace."

"So why have they become law now?" Harry asked.

"Cory Pembroke has been Imperiused, I think," Mr Weasley interjected. "Every law or decree that belittles those not of pure-blood extraction is a coup for You-Know-Who. Pembroke has signed every one of them."

"That's barbaric!" Dudley exclaimed, joining the discussion for the first time. "Almost worse than what Hitler did to the Jews!"

"I agree with you, Dudley," Mr Weasley commented. "Unfortunately, it's our law at the moment. The more I think about it the more I think You-Know-Who studied Hitler's writings, with as bad as times are becoming."

"Mr Weasley, You-Know-Who didn't study Hitler. He studied Grindelwald's autobiography and writings," Harry said quietly as all eyes at the table focused on him.

"Who is Grindel-guy?" Dudley asked at the same time that Mr Weasley asked, "Where'd you learn that, son?" and Ron commented, "Blimey, Harry, why'd you bring him up?"

"Professor Dumbledore wanted me to know my enemy and my enemy studied the wizard closest to Hitler, Grindelwald," Harry said carefully. He quickly explained to Dudley about Dumbledore's duel with Grindelwald and how You-Know-Who wanted to be greater than his predecessor.

When he finished, Percy asked pensively, "You mean to tell us that Grindelwald actually published something? I've never read anything by him."

"Neither have I," Hermione added in a small voice.

"He did, just like Hitler published his political biography, _Mein Kampf,_ back in the nineteen-twenties," Harry replied. "I don't remember what the title was, but it was a treatise on how a model Wizarding government should work."

"We had to read some excerpts from _Mein Kampf_ last term in world history," Dudley said. "Some of the passages we read were really racist."

"As were Grindelwald's ideas," Mr Weasley said solemnly. "If I remember correctly, he proposed that only pure-bloods be given governmental jobs and that those of Muggle-born and half-blood extraction should have their homes and businesses confiscated because they were polluting Wizarding society with their tainted magical blood. He eventually put these ideas into practice."

"What happened to the people whose lives were ruined?" Dudley asked.

"They were forced out into the streets where an elite group of pure-blood wizards was given carte-blanche to kill them on sight," Mr Weasley replied.

"And this is what our current governmental philosophy and policy is based on?" Percy inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, it is," Mr Weasley said. "But You-Know-Who seems to have taken it much farther than what Grindelwald managed to do in conjunction with Hitler. Nowadays, You-Know-Who's hit-wizards just waltz into whatever building their targets are hiding in, use the Killing Curse first and ask questions later."

"This Killing Curse… was it the one used on Harry's parents?" Dudley asked, shocking the entire table into silence.

Harry faced his cousin across the table. "Yeah, that's the one," he said, his face stony.

The discussion continued, but Ginny began to tune out, idly pushing her food around her plate with her fork. She felt terrible, as the world she knew crumbled around her. She kept one ear on what the others were saying; phrases concerning Voldemort, his search for supreme power—the power to be immortal—and the Unforgivable Curses raced around the table in comparison with the horrible prisons Grindelwald had constructed. These in turn were compared with Hitler's concentration camps, brought up by Dudley and his limited knowledge of Hitler's War. At one point, she heard him say something about "Blitzkrieg" and tales of the destruction of both magical and Muggle Britain and Germany began flying around the table. Even Mrs Weasley joined in with a story she had heard from Grandmother Prewett.

In the meantime, Ginny's other ear was turned to her own thoughts. What she had heard of the Ministry sent chills up her spine. _I'm lucky my family is still free,_ she thought. _Even though Dad's being watched and Percy can't show his face in his old office for fear of arrest, things could be so much worse._ She shuddered involuntarily as horrible possibilities wormed themselves into her brain. When she looked up, Hermione was staring at her, an eyebrow raised. Ginny shook her head and took a bite of her steak and kidney pie, just to reassure her friend that she was all right.

Finally, the discussion seemed to have been exhausted, for everyone at the table fell silent, seemingly as overwhelmed as Ginny. Only the clink of cutlery sounded in the room for several minutes.

Feeling the need to bring up another subject so as to lighten the sombre mood, she turned to Harry and asked quietly, "Have you taken those papers to Godric's Hollow yet?"

Harry looked relieved at the change in subject. "No, not yet. I was thinking about going on Monday. I have until Tuesday, but that's getting too close to Christmas if I have to go back to redo any of the papers."

"Would you like some company?" Ron asked. "It might be fun to see your new property."

A smile lit up Harry's face. "You beat me to it, Ron. Yes, I very much want you, Ginny and Hermione to come with me. Security in numbers, you know," he said, a shadow fleeting across his face that Ginny didn't think the others saw. He turned to Dudley. "Would you like to come with us on Monday? The last time I was there I saw a little inn and a pub that might have fireplaces attached to the Floo Network that we could use."

Dudley shook his head. "Thanks, Harry, but no. I've had a letter from Mum and I've accepted her invitation to have lunch with her on Monday," he replied. "Can I see your new house some other time?"

Harry smiled across the table at Dudley. "Sure, Dudley. Just let me know when you want to go."

Dudley stood up from the table, and after leaving his dishes on the counter, he disappeared up the stairs. A few minutes later, he reappeared clutching his laptop which he deposited on the sitting room table. Then, to Ginny's amazement, he grabbed a washing-up cloth and began washing the dishes. Harry picked up a tea towel and joined him as Mrs Weasley whispered, "They've taken to cleaning up like this since Harry began coming down stairs. The first night it took three times as long as it does now because Harry needed to rest so often."

"Why didn't Dudley just tell Harry to go sit down or something?" Ron asked quietly.

Hermione looked askance at Ron. "You know how stubborn Harry is," she murmured. "I bet Harry kept telling Dudley he was fine and to just leave him alone."

Mrs Weasley shook her head. "That's exactly what happened."

Ginny exchanged a look with her brother and Hermione. "Yep, that's Harry, all right," Ron commented. He stood up, grabbed the empty pie dish and took it to the counter. Hermione followed with two other platters and soon she, Ginny and Ron had the table cleared of dishes.

When clean-up was complete, Fred and George bid everyone good night and Apparated away as Dudley and Mr Weasley found places on the sofa in front of Dudley's laptop. Hermione joined them and the three were soon avidly discussing the computer. Ron persuaded Harry to play Chess with him and the two settled down at the board. As for Ginny, she and her mother went upstairs and finished wrapping their Christmas gifts, something they hadn't done together in several years.

Later that night, as she slipped into bed, Ginny sighed happily. As awful as the country's political situation was at the moment, she had to be thankful for the fact that it had helped her family reunite. She just hoped that the strain of coping with the danger of being labelled blood-traitors wouldn't affect her parents too greatly and that her family, Dudley, Harry and Hermione could remain safe until the war was over.

**End of Chapter Twenty-Two**

**A/N:** Many thanks to my pre-beta, GhostWriter. His additions, suggestions and comments helped to make this chapter much better than when I originally wrote it. I appreciate his willingness to help me phrase everything just right. I also thank Aggiebell, my beta, for her help in catching a couple of things that weren't absolutely clear.


	23. 23 Gwenyn

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Gwenyn**

They left for Godric's Hollow without Dudley—or Mr Weasley as a chaperone—early on Monday morning, much to Mrs Weasley's chagrin, for she had wanted Harry to wait until an adult could go with them. However, as the deadline for Harry to file the papers with the village solicitor was quickly approaching, he didn't dare wait much longer. He reasoned that if there were any complications with the transfer of ownership, he wanted to take care of them in the few days before the office closed for the Christmas holiday.

Ginny Side-Along-Apparated with him outside the gates of Gwenyn. Moments later, Ron and Hermione arrived and the four took a few minutes to gaze at what they could see of the house and grounds. Snow covered the lawn and lay in drifts amongst the trees in the surrounding wood. It had piled up along the garden walls and those of the Tudor-style house as well. In every way, Ginny thought it a truly beautiful place.

"Harry, this is wonderful," Hermione exclaimed. "Are we touring now or later?"

"Later," replied Harry. "I need to get the papers filed before noon." He led the way up the snow-covered lane.

The walk was a pleasant one, with Harry telling them some of the history he had learned from Professor Dumbledore. As they neared the village square, he asked them to keep an eye out for the solicitor's office.

"There it is," called Ginny several minutes later. She pointed to a tiny one-story building nestled between a bakery and a green grocer's.

"Mark Prosser, Esq. Solicitor," Ron read. "Is he the one we want?"

"Yeah. He's the only solicitor in town," Harry said, leading them through the door.

A young woman sat behind a counter, a telephone receiver pressed to her ear. "May I help you?" she asked, looking up expectantly.

"Erm, yeah," Harry said. "I'm here to turn in some Change of Ownership papers on the Dumbledore estate. Aberforth Dumbledore told me to come here. Do I need to give the papers to you or Mr Prosser?"

The receptionist reached towards Harry. "You can give them to me," she said. Ginny bit back a giggle when the receptionist's eyes automatically zeroed in on Harry's scar causing his ears to turn pink.

Harry handed over the papers. The receptionist looked through them, then consulted a ledger and made some notations. "Looks like everything is here," she said. Harry turned to leave.

"Hold on. Mr Potter, please don't go," she requested. "There's a memo in the file that requests that you see Mr Prosser. Please have a seat while I let him know you're here." She pushed a button on her phone and spoke quietly into the receiver as Ginny and Ron tried not to gawk at all the Muggle technology they were seeing.

Ron nudged her and asked, "Wouldn't Dad get a kick out of all this stuff?"

"Merlin forbid we let him loose in here!" Ginny chuckled. She caught Harry's eye. He winked at her; she giggled behind her hand. The receptionist raised an eyebrow and just shook her head.

Ginny and Ron stopped laughing when the receptionist stood up and addressed them, "Mr Prosser will see you now. Please follow me."

The four friends followed her, Hermione scowling at Ginny and Ron as they trailed behind Harry into the solicitor's office. Even though Ron was managing a straight face, her brother's eyes were full of merriment.

Mr Prosser came round his desk, his hand extended. "Mr Potter, how wonderful to meet you at last!" he exclaimed.

"How do you do?" Harry replied formally. Ginny caught Hermione's eye behind his back and the two elbowed Ron, who was still having trouble containing his laughter now that Harry was all business. "You needed to see me, sir?"

Mr Prosser waved a hand towards a chair in front of his desk, and then took his own place behind it. "Yes. Miss Murphy gave me your papers and they're all in order, but there is the small matter of changing the security spells to reflect the new owner."

"And you'd like to do that today?"

"Yes, if you and your friends have the time," said Mr Prosser, inclining his head towards Ginny, Ron and Hermione, who had remained standing by the door.

"I thought I'd show them the house while we were in the village," Harry said, "so if we could do that sometime today, that would be nice."

"How about now?" Mr Prosser asked. "I don't have anything pressing at the moment and it would be a pleasure to give you a tour of the property." He stood up, but Harry remained seated.

"Mr Prosser, there are two matters that I'd like you to help me with," Harry said. The solicitor sat down again, his expression turning from genial to businesslike. "First, since I assume the Death Eaters are keen to recapture me, I was never here. My representative, Mr Ronald Weasley," he pointed to Ron, "brought those papers in instead of me."

"This is for security reasons?"

"Correct," Harry said, "for both of us. If it was known that I was freely roaming the village it would put both me and my friends in grave danger almost immediately, not to mention anyone who might have been in contact with me." Mr Prosser nodded, looking somewhat ill at ease for a moment. Harry cleared his throat and smiled at him. "The second item is not as intimidating, sir: I'd like to set up an annual Christmas bonus for the Potter Memorial guards, effective this Christmas Eve. Is it possible to set one up with so little notice?"

"You'd like me to make the arrangements with Gringotts for you, Mr Potter?" asked Mr Prosser as Harry took a letter from inside his cloak and handed it to him. The solicitor scanned the parchment. "Yes, this letter will be fine. I can do this now if you don't mind waiting."

Harry murmured something that Ginny didn't catch because Ron was elbowing Hermione and asking, "Has Harry been picking your brain lately?"

She scowled and shook her head. "Not in the last three days."

"I think he's been talking to Dad," Ginny volunteered. "He's had plenty of time to do that in the last couple of weeks."

Harry now joined them.

"What's up?" Ron asked.

"Mr Prosser is going to the Gringotts branch here in the village to set up that bonus for the guards I was telling you about last night," Harry said. "When he comes back we'll all go over to the house for a tour and to change the security spells. I told him we'd wait."

It took nearly an hour for Mr Prosser to return.

"All set, Mr Potter," he said, handing Harry a sheaf of parchment. "Ready to go out to the house?" At Harry's nod, he told Miss Murphy where they were going and they Apparated outside the gates of Harry's new home.

"Now, then," Mr Prosser said once they were gathered around him. "The spell to open the gate and door are the same and are secreted much like the location of someone under the Fidelius Charm." Harry nodded that he understood, so Mr Prosser continued. "At the moment, I am this property's Secret Keeper since Aberforth gave up his rights to the property when he received your payment. As the new owner of the property this responsibility will now be yours."

"I understand, sir," said Harry.

The solicitor continued his explanation. "Mr Potter, I need you to do two things: first, think of a word you can easily recall to use as a password, then, when you're ready, hold your hand over the gate until I tell you to grasp it."

It was fascinating to watch the transfer process. Ginny could tell when Harry had chosen his word because his face relaxed and he stopped staring at the ground. Mr Prosser then waved his wand in a complicated pattern, taking in Harry's body and a huge arch that included the gate and walls surrounding Gwenyn. Even Hermione seemed impressed when a soft blue glow surrounded the gate and Harry when he grasped it.

"The grounds will now recognize you, Harry, and will allow you to Apparate and Disapparate to and from the property," Mr Prosser stated as the spell faded. "Do you wish to give access to your friends? If so, you need to tell them your password and then they will each need to touch the gate in turn."

Harry turned to Ginny who was standing closest to him. "The password is 'skep'," he whispered in her ear.

Ginny walked over to the gate and touched it lightly as Harry repeated the word to her brother and best friend. She nearly giggled when she felt the spell tickling her fingers.

"Can I open the house door with the key, Mr Prosser?" Harry asked as they approached the house.

The question was so blatantly Muggle-based that Ginny and Ron were hard-pressed to keep straight faces again. Hermione scowled in their direction, effectively putting an end to their levity at Harry's expense. Harry, however, just ignored her, and Ron and Ginny knew that if Harry still retained his dry sense of humour, he'd eventually get even with them.

"Actually, no," Mr Prosser replied. "The key Aberforth gave you is to the broom shed at the back of the property on the other side of the wood. He thought it might impress upon you that he was completely serious about selling you his family home if he gave you a real key."

"Then, the only way to unlock any of the doors and windows is using the password?"

"Yes. You don't need to say it out loud, only think it," Mr Prosser said.

"Harry, that's how we unlock the doors and windows to the Burrow from the outside," Ron said. "We've never had house keys like Muggles do."

Ginny suppressed a smile as Harry cottoned on to the concept of magical security measures.

"Bill and Fleur will be home for Christmas if you need further explanation," Ron continued. "I'm sure he'd be happy to explain what happened today in more detail."

"Thanks. I just might talk to him," Harry said as he held his hand near the front door for Mr Prosser to finish the security spells.

When they were finished, Mr Prosser bid them good-day and left them to tour the house without him.

The four friends opened the door and walked into the small foyer. Soft morning light illuminated a mirrored hat rack and umbrella stand that occupied most of one wall. They hung their cloaks up, shed their snowy boots on a tray under the bench and began peering through doors on the ground floor. They immediately discovered a tiny bedroom with a rumpled bed next to the stairs.

"That's the servant's quarters," Harry explained. He suddenly looked sad and Ginny walked over and rubbed his back. "Dumbledore took a nap in here that day," he mumbled.

"Will you be all right?" Ginny asked quietly. "Do you want to leave?"

Harry shook his head. "No. If I'm ever going to live here, I'm going to have to face the memories."

They continued their tour, discovering an ornate dining room behind the door next to the bedroom. It was furnished with antiques that Hermione estimated were at least three hundred years old. She opened a drawer in the bureau and gasped; it was filled with the Dumbledore family silver. A china cupboard held multiple sets of crystal and goblin-made silver goblets, a full set of ornate china and many fine linen tablecloths to cover the long wooden table that seated eight. In one corner were two extra dining chairs.

The kitchen, still old-fashioned but slightly more modern in design, came next through a door connecting it with the dining room. There were two other doors, one leading into the corridor and another to a small, outside porch. An old pair of wellies sat forlornly in one corner. Ginny dragged her attention from the boots and began admiring the turn-of-the-century cooker, built-in sink and work surface and the large, well-worn table that stood in the middle of the room.

Ginny poked Ron and commented, "You were thinking of Dad earlier. Wouldn't Mum love this room?"

"Yeah, she would love the extra work space," he agreed.

Hermione, it seemed, was enraptured with the big open hearth fireplace with its two cupboard doors, one on either side. The first door she opened revealed a bread oven and when she mentioned homemade pizza to Harry, he grinned at her enthusiastically. He kept on grinning when she found the perfect nest for Kreacher; the second cupboard on the other side of the hearth from the bread oven that housed the boiler.

"Harry, he'll love it in there!" she exclaimed. "It'll be so warm and cosy for him."

The room across the passage turned out to be the sitting room. This room was also furnished with antiques. It had a very formal feel to it even though there was evidence that several pieces of furniture had been removed. The large painting above the fire place was gone, too.

"That big white spot must have been where Aberforth's sister's portrait hung," Harry remarked.

They continued on into the library, Ginny watching Harry carefully. She knew he and Dumbledore had spent time together in this room and she wanted to be close at hand if he needed her support. He did. She knew the instant the memories hit. As they walked into the splendid room, Harry's eyes honed in on a collection of little silver instruments Ginny had seen in Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts someone had thoughtfully put on the big table. The shock of seeing them there was written plainly on Harry's face. She went to him and held his trembling body while Hermione grabbed Ron's hand and towed him over to inspect the bookshelves.

"Harry, it's all right," she whispered. "You have every right to grieve like this. You've not had the proper opportunity to start healing because you've needed the time to heal yourself."

"I know." Harry pulled her over to the table, turned one of the chairs around and sat down. He was now at just the right height to lay his head on her shoulder and Ginny stood in front of him, cradling his head as he sobbed silently into the crook of her neck.

"You'll be all right, Harry," Ron said quietly, coming around the table and squeezing Harry's shoulder.

"We've decided to go see what's upstairs," Hermione said quietly as she and Ron headed out the door. "We'll be back in a few minutes."

Harry relaxed against her a little after they left. He was still making her shirt wet, but the initial flood seemed to be abating. Eventually, he pulled away and sat back, pushing his glasses up on his forehead and digging his fingers into his eyes.

When he calmed a bit more, he pulled his hands away from his face. "I just don't understand," he hiccupped.

"What don't you understand, Harry?" she asked, gently removing his glasses. She set them on the table behind him.

Harry ran his hands through his hair, making it stand on end. His shoulders slumped and he rested his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. "Why do I feel as if someone's pulled my insides out through my chest and left them hanging there?" he asked, his voice cracking. "I've _never_ been this emotional before. _**Never**_ with the Dursleys… not even when my heart was breaking after Sirius died. I just don't understand it." He sighed heavily and rested his head in his hands again.

Ginny turned another chair around and sat beside him. She put her hand on his back, rubbing in soothing circles as she chose her words carefully. "You've been through so much in an incredibly short time, Harry," she said as he leaned into her hand. "You were a prisoner, for Merlin's sake! You're dealing with the after-effects of experiences no normal person will ever have to go through. Just that in itself sets you apart from who you were six months ago. Add your grief over losing Professor Dumbledore and it's no wonder you're reacting the way you are."

Harry raised his head and stared at her, his expression miserable, his eyes pleading her to help him understand.

"This is the first time you've truly confronted the reality of Professor Dumbledore's death, isn't it?" she asked quietly. He nodded. "And seeing the house and everything that belonged to him has just reminded you of his absence?"

Harry stood up abruptly and began pacing. "Why did he leave me, Ginny?" he demanded, suddenly angry. "I'm only seventeen! I have to _borrow_ your family to have one to call my own. Every bloody adult I've ever cared deeply about has either been killed or dies on me!" He stopped pacing and stared at her as he demanded, "What's wrong with me, Ginny? Do I have some kind of plague or something? Is it that the Wizarding world thinks I'm its Chosen One, the one it thinks will deliver it from the darkest wizard in fifty years?"

Harry snatched up his glasses and jammed them back on his nose. "Dumbledore was the closest person I knew who could have been a grandfather to me. He understood what I have to do and what I need to do to get ready for it. We were just getting to really know each other. Then he did something stupid and got himself cursed and now I feel like I've been cheated again."

"Oh, Harry, I don't think he meant you to take his dying that way. I think he thought you were ready for him to leave you," she suggested, making a wild guess. "Maybe he knew his time was up, that he couldn't help you any more. Maybe he felt that because you have all your teachers, my family and your friends to support you his job was done and he could leave you peacefully, knowing you were in good hands."

"Then why should he leave at all?" Harry pleaded. "He could have stuck around! I was beginning to feel like I was normal. We did things together every evening. We talked about everything but You Know Who. We practiced magic tricks, talked about Quidditch and took walks together. I was _happy!_"

Harry stopped in front of her, his expression less angry. He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. "Maybe you're right," he conceded after a moment. "Maybe I need to have more faith in what he taught me." He walked over to the little silver instruments and picked one up, gazing at it almost reverently. "I—I broke so many of these the night Sirius died… I still can't believe he _encouraged _me to vent my anger on them… The pieces were spread all over his office… I made such an incredible mess…" Harry broke off, drawing a long, tremulous breath. "He was so supportive of me last year… We became so close, closer than I could have ever imagined." He turned to look over at her and Ginny smiled encouragingly.

Another big sigh escaped Harry and he turned back to the object in his hand. "Last year when I was doing all those assignments in McGonagall's office, Professor Dumbledore would drop by just to see how I was doing. I… I resented it at first, thinking that he was just there to monitor my progress, but he always said something nice to me. He was genuinely happy when I mastered something. It felt…" Harry struggled to find the words he wanted. "It felt nice. Later, we started doing things together that I never thought possible, like arranging the Quidditch fund after your accident and just talking in his office. I felt so close to him last summer…"

Ginny smiled sadly, letting him remember what she hoped were good memories. Finally, she asked, "What about the time you spent together in the cave? You mentioned last weekend that you talked for hours when you were together."

Harry sucked in a breath. His expression was guarded as he nearly whispered, "We did, but a lot of the time we were just trying to survive."

Mentally, Ginny kicked herself and she wondered whether or not this was a good time to bring up the subject. "Did he reminisce sometimes, Harry? Mum told me once that when people get old or are near death they want to share stories from their past. Did Dumbledore do that?" She bit her lip and watched him carefully.

"Yeah, he did," Harry said quietly. He replaced the little machine and walked over to the desk, keeping his back to her. "But I don't remember much… my head was too messed up most of the time. The stories he told me seemed more of a distraction than anything else."

"Perhaps that's what he wanted them to be," she suggested. "Maybe he needed to be distracted, too."

The quills in their fancy silver holder in front of the blotter seemed to fascinate him as he said, "Yeah, you're probably right. Towards the end he was in a lot of pain. The curse had stolen most of his magic by then and that's when he started telling me about his early life."

Ginny stood up and walked over to the window, parting the drapes with her wand to look out on the snowy garden. "Did you like hearing his stories?"

"I did, especially the ones about his family and his duel with Grindelwald," Harry said, coming to stand next to her. "We talked a lot about what it was like here in Godric's Hollow when he was growing up, too. He even told me stories about my parents."

Ginny looked up at him, studying his expression. He looked less troubled. "I'm glad. Did he ever talk about this house?"

Harry didn't answer right away. "Only once," he said finally. "He said this library was his favourite room of all."

"I could tell when we first walked in here," Ginny she said, looking up at him. "Everything he put in here seems to be something he might have cherished." She hoped the memories weren't too painful for him.

Harry was quiet for a long time before he answered. "Yeah," he said finally, sounding somewhat distant. "He gave me time to explore in here while he took his nap that afternoon. I… I didn't want to leave."

Ginny gazed around the room, taking in the private retreat Professor Dumbledore had created. "This seems like just the room for you, Harry," she commented.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, everything in here is something Dumbledore collected. I think he knew you'd take care of the collection. Every book is here for a reason. Someone even thought it prudent to bring all the instruments from Hogwarts here instead of leaving them at the school and… hold on…" she turned to peer at the pictures sitting on the mantle over the fireplace. There was a big one of Hogwarts castle plus one of a Gryffindor Quidditch player. She walked over to study it. "Harry, this is _you!_"

Ginny almost laughed as Harry's expression changed rapidly from melancholy to astonishment. He was at her side, reaching for the frame before she finished her sentence. He stared, wide-eyed, as his third-year self pumped his Snitch-filled fist high in the air. "Why… why would Dumbledore have a picture of me?" he sputtered. "I'm not even family."

She smiled as she said, "You're as good as a son to my mum, so why wouldn't Dumbledore want you for a grandson?"

Harry's head whipped around and he almost dropped the picture. "You're having me on, Ginny. Why would Professor Dumbledore want me for a grandson?"

Gathering her courage she told him, "I think he loved you very much, Harry. I think Professor Dumbledore took your parents' deaths very personally and that he felt guilty about leaving you with your aunt and uncle." Harry's face clouded over when she mentioned the Dursleys, but she ploughed ahead anyway. "And I've come to the conclusion that he wanted you at Hogwarts last summer so that he could try to make it up to you for leaving you in that horrible house."

Silence descended on the library as Harry put the picture back. "He said something like that once, right before the curse took him. He asked me to forgive him."

"Did you?"

Harry didn't answer right away. He walked over to the bookshelves, his head bowed. Ginny waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts. When he answered she could barely hear him, so she followed him round the table.

"I think I did… the night he did Diametric Legilimency on me. There were things I needed to know that we couldn't talk about in the cell and some information about You Know Who he transferred to me was one of them," he began. "I don't think I said much of anything because I was so scared of the spell—the Death Eaters had been forcing themselves into my head so hard it hurt like hell." Harry stopped talking and Ginny waited, knowing that as painful as it was for him to talk about these things, he was helping himself by finally telling someone about his experiences. Finally, he went back to the window and picked up a small brass figurine that had been sitting on the ledge in front of it. Ginny remained where she stood. "I remember he gave me lots of reminiscences about my parents, memories from when I was really little. And I remember thanking him for them and for being gentle with me."

"Is that a good memory, Harry?" she asked.

Harry turned towards her. "Yeah, surprisingly it is," he said, smiling for the first time since Ron and Hermione left the library.

Ginny returned his smile. "I'm glad, Harry." She paused, then asked, "Shall we go upstairs and see what my brother and Hermione are up to?"

"Yeah, I think we'd better," he said. He put the figurine back in its place and shut the blinds. As the room darkened, he came around the desk and extended his hand to her. She took it and together they left the library and followed Hermione's voice up the stairs and into the room at the very end of the passage, which turned out to be the master bedroom.

Hermione searched their faces as Ginny and Harry entered the room.

Harry gave her a tight smile. "I'm doing better, Hermione, thanks to Ginny," he said. He squeezed Ginny's hand. She squeezed his back.

Hermione didn't look convinced at all. "Look what we found," she said a little too enthusiastically and Ginny knew she was probably feeling a little embarrassed about what she and Ron had witnessed downstairs. "Isn't it grand?"

Ginny hid a smile behind her free hand as Ron snorted and even Harry cracked a smile.

"It's rather… bright," he said and the four friends burst into giggles.

The room was elegant in a somewhat ostentatious way. The walls were covered in cream coloured parchment, patterned in pale golden lions and griffins. The chairs, comforter and throw rugs were upholstered in a deep red colour, reminiscent of the Gryffindor common room. Harry pointed to the ceiling upon which a massive phoenix, which reminded Ginny of Fawkes, was painted in bold reds, oranges and golds. The bird's eye was situated above the bed which dominated the left side of the room. A large picture of Hogwarts hung above the fireplace.

"Does the bird move?" he asked, letting go of Ginny's hand and walking over to study the head more closely.

"It hasn't since we've been in here," Ron answered. "It's sort of creepy, though. I'm not sure I'd be able to sleep with that thing peering at me all night."

"You have all those Canons players flying all over your room all night, so why are you worried about a phoenix?" Ginny asked her brother.

Ron's ears turned red. "They're concentrating on flying, not staring at me all night," he replied.

Hermione, meanwhile, had pulled her wand out of her purse and now pointed it at the phoenix which suddenly closed its eye and tucked its head under its wing. "Harry," she said as the others stared, "I think it's some sort of guardian. That animation spell I just used gave the phoenix permission to go to sleep, I think."

Harry scratched his chin. "You may be right," he said. "I'll have to talk to Aberforth about it." He gave the phoenix another look and then walked towards the door. "What's in the other rooms? I'm nearly ready to leave."

"Well, we think Professor Dumbledore's boyhood room was the first one on the right," Ron said. "Hermione spent a lot of time in there looking at the books. She found an entire shelf dedicated to really old Hogwarts text books."

"Aberforth's room is on the right at the head of the stairs," Hermione said. "There's only a few pieces of furniture in there, but definitely more than in the room across the passage."

"It might have been their sister's room. Someone cleaned it out a long time ago," said Ron. "It looks like a guest bedroom, really."

"Where's the bathroom? Or is this house so old there isn't one?" Harry asked.

Hermione grinned and pointed to his left. "It's the most modern room in the house," she said. "It would fit nicely in my parents' house."

Ginny poked her head into the loo as Harry remarked, "Well, that's a relief. I was thinking that a trip outside to the privy in the middle of winter would be downright uncomfortable!"

The four dissolved into gales of laughter and quickly left the house. Harry secured the door and then suggested they visit the Potter Memorial. "I want to tell the guard that he and the others can pick up their Christmas bonuses at the bank," he said.

Ginny wanted to see more of the village, so she suggested they walk instead of Apparate. The others agreed and they retraced their steps back to the village square. They crossed it, skirting the little park with its tiny bandstand and preceded towards the opposite lane. When at last they came to the church, Harry paused at the gate.

He pointed up at the barren hill with its ancient tree on top. "My family's crypt is up there at the top in the magical section," he told them quietly. "It's the middle of three crypts near that huge tree."

"Do you want to go up?" Ginny asked.

"Not today. There's something else I want to do instead," he said and backed away from gate. In no time they were standing at the gate to the Potter Memorial.

**End of Chapter Twenty-three.**

**To be continued in Chapter Twenty-four.**

**A/N:** For those of you who are fascinated by the world of words and their meaning, I'd like to share my reasons for having Harry use the term _Diametric Legilimency_ in this chapter. In Chapter Seventeen, Dumbledore uses what he terms at the time "reverse Legilimency" on Harry to give him some information he needs to defeat Voldemort. The effect was completely opposite of what a normal Legilimens does to his victim: Dumbledore _gave_ Harry information, he didn't search for or take any. Unfortunately, the word "reverse" should have been "counter" or "inverse" or some other word that means "opposite" instead of "to change direction." Several people commented on that in their reviews and at the time, my reason for having Dumbledore use an unsophisticated, wrong word is simply Harry's state of mind at the time: in his confusion and mental anguish, Harry needed familiar, comforting words that would put his mind at ease. So now that he's had time to heal and possibly talk to Arthur Weasley, or even Bill, Harry has taken the time to find out exactly which spell Dumbledore performed to give him the information and memories of his parents. I think calling the kind of Legilimency Dumbledore used "diametric" clarifies and describes exactly what went on during the time Dumbledore had access to Harry's mind.

And now for my thank yous. GhostWriter, I am very grateful that you took many of my ideas in the rough draft and showed me several versions of how to make paragraphs sound better. I may not have used your wording exactly in every instance, but the thoughts are there… just manipulated a bit. Thank you for the time you took to help me make this a better chapter. Aggiebell, the fact that you wrote in your email to me that this chapter was very clean just made me jump up and down. Thanks for the suggestion and comments that always foreshadow the reaction many of the readers express in their comments. I appreciate the time you take to look over my chapters.


	24. 24 The Potter Memorial

**Chapter Twenty-four: The Potter Memorial**

"Mr Potter, how nice to see you again!" exclaimed the Potter Memorial guard as Harry let himself and the others in. "What brings you to Godric's Hollow?"

Harry smiled. "I wanted to see the house and gardens again, Mr Campbell," he said. He stepped aside so the guard could see Ginny and the others. "I'd like you to meet my friends Ginny and Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger."

"It's a pleasure to meet you young people," said Mr Campbell, genially. He looked at the house over his shoulder. "Well, go right ahead. Let me know if you want to go inside. I'll be right here."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said politely, making Ginny and Hermione smile. It always astonished Ginny that Harry had learned such amazing manners when he was raised in such a rude household.

As Harry led them towards the back of the house, Ginny tried to absorb the beauty of the memorial. As depressing as the house was with the gaping hole in its roof, the snow-covered gardens surrounding it more than made up for it.

"Harry, why isn't there any snow on the roof?" Hermione asked, shading her eyes against the noonday sun. "All the other houses on the lane are nearly buried in it."

"I think it's a preservation spell," Harry replied, stopping to gaze at the hole. "Dumbledore told me that since the village doesn't want the house to deteriorate, so they've put anti-weather and pest-control spells in place to keep the elements and unwanted 'residents' out."

"Makes sense," Ron agreed, peering at the house.

"Yeah, it does. Unfortunately, the Memorial Foundation didn't begin to preserve the house until May of 1982, so my room was open to the elements for six months," Harry said distractedly. "I hope it's not too…" He trailed off, letting his thought hang unfinished.

_He's going up there today,_ Ginny thought, exchanging looks with Hermione who nodded grimly.

Ron shifted, digging little ruts in the snow with the toe of his boot. He looked about as if he was trying to find something to fill the awkward silence. Finally, he said, "You told me there's a Quidditch pitch somewhere on the property?"

Harry startled with a small "oh!" "Yeah, it's out back," he said, a slow grin lighting up his face. "It's this way." He led them through the formal garden and the surrounding woods to a meadow bordered by trees.

"Where are the goals?" Ron asked, a bewildered expression creasing his forehead.

Harry sighed. "My dad never got the chance to finish it," he said, sounding forlorn.

"Well, no matter what, I think it's beautiful here," Ginny said, making the other three chuckle. She ran out into the meadow, flopped down on her back and began waving her arms and legs in and out in the snow. "And it's the perfect place for making snow angels!" she giggled. Her three companions laughed at her antics and joined her. It wasn't long before an entire parade of snow angles stretched across the paddock.

They stayed in the meadow a while longer, then the couples wandered, hand in hand, back towards the house. As they neared it, Harry's hand tensed in Ginny's. She looked up at him, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"I'm going to ask Mr Campbell to let me into the house. Do you want to come inside with me?" he asked.

Ginny answered, "I wouldn't miss this opportunity for the world, Harry, and I don't think my brother or Hermione would either."

Harry relaxed a little. He murmured, "Be right back," as he let go of her hand and jogged over to the gatehouse. A moment later, he stuck his head out the door and pointed towards the front door, indicating that Ginny, Ron and Hermione should meet him there.

"I'm glad you want to see your childhood home, Mr Potter," said Mr Campbell as he reversed the security spells on the door. "Stay as long as you like. I'll lock up when you leave."

"I appreciate that," Harry said. He turned the knob and stepped inside, Ginny, Ron and Hermione right behind him.

The layout of the ground floor was similar to that of Gwenyn, except the foyer was in the middle of the house. An archway to the right led into a spacious sitting room that looked towards the gate and the cobbled lane beyond it.

Harry walked slowly into the room, the others following at a distance. When he reached the hearth rug, he sat down and gazed around the room for several long moments.

Ron poked Ginny in the side. "What's he doing?" he asked in a stage whisper.

"Let's see what he does," she responded, rubbing the sore place his elbow had created.

Harry grinned up at them. "I remember this room," he said. "I remember sitting here playing with my toys." He pointed to a wingback chair to his left. "Mum would sometimes sit there when Dad, Sirius and Uncle Mooney played with me. I think they were trying to keep me away from the hearth."

"I would think your mum would have been down there on the floor with you," Hermione commented.

Harry thought a moment. "I don't ever recall her being down on the floor with us when Dad and Sirius and I played. And Dumbledore's memories showed me that we played quite roughly down here… maybe that's why Mum just supervised."

Hermione smiled. "I can imagine your mum watching from her chair, because my Aunt Jill never engaged in what she called 'boy stuff' that her sons did when I was growing up," she said.

"You could very well be right," Harry said vaguely and seemed to slip back into his memories for a few moments.

Finally, he stood up and wandered over to an open area between the rug and another furniture grouping that included a sofa, a low table and several chairs. Again, he sat down, but this time he crawled round the table and then back and forth in the open space, too. He grinned up at Ron who had continued to regard him curiously.

"I think this is where I played with my toys and learned to fly, Ron," he said. "There's a picture in that album Hagrid gave me after first year that shows me hovering on a tiny broomstick in front of this table."

"You mean a broom like the ones we saw the children flying on at the Quidditch World Cup that time?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, one of those, only smaller," Harry said. He held his hands about two feet apart, as if measuring something. "Maybe… this long…" He looked about him again, then said, "I can't believe I remember so much."

Hermione looked at him curiously. "That seems strange to me, too. How are you seeing these things in your head, Harry?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, are they your memories or do they look as if they're coming from someone else's recollections? You know, like the images you see in the Pensieve memories you've told us about," she said thoughtfully.

Harry frowned, looking thoughtful. "You know, the more I think about it, the more I may be seeing the memories Dumbledore gave me," he said slowly.

"That was a nice gift, then," Ron said. Hermione looked over at him, beaming at his comment.

"That is a nice way to think about it," Harry said, struggling to stand up. Ron extended his hand and pulled him to his feet. "Come on, let's take a look at the rest of the rooms down here." He led them out of the sitting room and back into the foyer. They made quick work of the other rooms, pausing long enough in James' study for Harry to crawl under his father's desk, making Ginny and Hermione giggle.

They returned to the foyer after that and Harry stopped in front of the stairs, a strange look on his face that Ginny recognized from the library at Gwynen. As he started up the steps on his own, she held up a hand to stop Hermione and Ron from following him.

"Let's go up, Ginny," said Hermione, ignoring Ginny's warning.

"Hermione, NO!" Ginny hissed at her friend. "Let him have a few minutes alone."

"Why?" asked Ron.

Ginny scowled at her brother. "Harry needs some time to himself up there," she hissed. "He needs to see his room alone."

"How do you know?" Ron challenged.

"Did you see his expression? It was similar to the one on his face as he entered Dumbledore's library at the other house," she replied.

Hermione caught on quickly. "Ron, I think Harry planned it this way. He knew there were some things he didn't face the last time he was here that he needs to see now. He brought us along for moral support, right Ginny?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"But why won't you let me go upstairs?" Ron whined. "I want to see Harry's room, too, you know."

Ginny glared at her brother again. "Harry needs to grieve, Ron."

"Well, if he's so overwrought, then why shouldn't we be up there with him?" he shot back.

"I think Harry needs to cry, Ron," Hermione said softly, putting a hand on his arm. Ron's eyebrows shot into his fringe. "You know Harry won't cry in front of anyone but Ginny and… I think he needs to cry… for his parents…" Her eyes widened as an idea occurred to her, "… for himself."

The three of them stood looking at each other as the impact of Hermione's words washed over them. It had never occurred to Ginny that Harry needed to grieve for himself, for his own losses, and had never done so; she had always assumed that at one time or another he had found the time to get over the sorrow inflicted upon him by the murder of his parents. As they stood there, a muffled sniff reached them from the first floor. They looked at the ceiling and Ron gave Ginny a little push towards the stairs.

"Go on up, Ginny," he said. "We'll join you in a bit."

Ginny smiled at her brother. "Thanks."

Harry was leaning against the door jam of a child's bedroom, his back to the stairwell. His hands were jammed deep in his pockets and Ginny could tell he was weeping because his shoulders shook with his ragged breathing. She stopped at the top of the stairs and just watched as he wiped his eyes with his sleeve and then ventured further into the room. Ginny followed at a respectful distance, stopping just inside the door, knowing that Harry was completely lost in what he was seeing for the first time in sixteen years.

The room was probably the largest of the three smaller bedrooms, if she compared it to the rooms she had seen at Gwenyn. It had once been a handsome room, the perfect place for a little boy to grow up. The mildewed walls had once been a bright, robin's egg blue. Someone, most likely Lily, Ginny thought, had painted billowy clouds and Golden Snitches on them. She wondered if the Snitches had flitted magically amongst the clouds like her own butterflies. She hoped they had.

Harry was now walking around touching everything; the collapsed cot in the far corner under the gaping hole caused by the caved-in roof, the bureau and what might have been a changing stand next to it. From where she stood, Ginny could see clean spots where his fingers had disturbed the dust. She glanced to her left and smiled at the cosy scene; a white-painted rocking chair stood in the corner closest to the door on an old rag rug. _I wonder if Harry remembers being rocked to sleep in that chair,_ she mused as she turned to look at the rest of the room. In the far corner, under the window at the opposite end of the room, was a bookshelf crammed with books and beside it sat an overflowing toy chest. Again, Ginny wondered if Harry remembered playing up here.

Eventually, Harry stopped in the middle of the room and turned in a slow circle. He startled when he realized Ginny was watching him.

"You OK?" she asked tentatively.

Harry sighed. "Yeah, I think I am," he murmured, sounding a bit nasal. "It's weird getting to see it after all this time."

"Do you… do you remember this room like you did the sitting room?" she asked.

Harry turned and wandered towards the toy chest. He studied the toys and finally picked up a stuffed dragon. He held it up for her to see as he said, "I think Sirius gave this to me. I think he called it 'Puff'."

Ginny giggled and walked over to him, gazing at the toy. "He looks like a 'Puff,'" she said, studying its faded green body and wings when Harry handed it to her. "The one Charlie gave me years ago kind of looked like this, only it was blue and its face was sort of smashed-looking, like Crookshanks'." She smiled softly at the memory. "Charlie told me to call it 'Fang', but I called it 'Sweety' because he thought it was supposed to be a Swedish Short-Snout." She handed back the toy and Harry took it, running a sentimental hand over it before putting it back.

"This one might be a Welsh Green," he said absently.

Ginny wandered over to the bookshelf and extracted a book. On the cover were some pigs dressed in funny clothing. The title of the book, _The Three Little Pigs,_ wasn't a children's book she was familiar with. She carefully set the book on the floor and pulled out another one. This one was entitled _Nursery Rhymes for the Very Young_. She paged through it, smiling at the fun the poems that poked at Muggle royalty. Harry walked over to see what she was doing and together they read a few of the rhymes before Ginny put the book back.

"I didn't recognize any of those," she admitted. "Do you think your mum wanted to expose you to the literature of both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds?"

Harry shrugged as he pulled a book from the lower shelf. He chuckled as he read the title and showed it to Ginny: _The Three Little Dragons._ She picked up the pig book. They skimmed both stories which turned out to be very similar.

"I think that answers that question," she said as they returned the books to their places. She looked at her watch, thinking that Ron and Hermione should be coming up soon. She glanced at Harry who was still choosing books. "Almost done?"

Harry shoved the book he was looking at back in the book case. "Yeah, I think I am," he said, his voice once more growing a bit shaky.

As she turned to walk back to the door, Ginny gasped. "Harry," she said, pointing to an object leaning against the door frame behind the door, "is that… is that the broom you were talking about downstairs?"

Harry walked over and picked up the miniature broom. "Yeah, I think it is," he said, his eyes wide with the discovery.

"It's so tiny!" Ginny exclaimed. "How did you stay on it?"

Harry gave her a lopsided grin. "Sirius stuck me to it with a temporary Sticking Charm."

"Oh, that's priceless," she giggled. "A very Sirius thing to do."

"Yeah, it is." Harry walked back to where she stood and slipped his hand in hers. "Thanks for coming up," he said as Ron and Hermione joined them.

As she entered, Hermione's eyes grew wide. "So this is where it all began…"

"Cool room, ickle broom," Ron commented, spying the broom in Harry's hand.

Harry chuckled. "Ginny just said the same thing," he said.

"Can I hold it?" Ron asked, extending his hand. "I want to see what model it is."

Hermione came to stand on Ginny's other side. "Leave it to Ron to want to know everything about Harry's first broom," she whispered.

Ginny stifled a giggle. "You know my brother pretty well," she whispered back.

"That I do," Hermione agreed as Ron handed the broom back to Harry.

"It looks like a FlyTime 200, Harry," he said. "A very good first broom, that. Nice and stable, didn't go over five miles an hour or get higher than four feet off the floor. The Cleansweep Company manufactured it for about five years, I think. Mum and Dad bought us a couple of them a long time ago, but I don't remember what happened to them."

Ginny cleared her throat and said, "Fred and George crashed both brooms playing 'chicken' one afternoon when I was five. They weren't supposed to be on them."

Harry shook his head, clearly amazed at the amount of knowledge Ron could cram into his head when it came to brooms and Quidditch. "My mum would have confiscated it if she didn't think it was safe," he said, peering closely at the scuff marks on the handle. "I apparently rode several times a day, according to Professor Dumbledore." He put the broom back in its place and stood staring at it before returning to Ginny's side.

The four of them lingered a few minutes longer and then left, closing the door on Harry's former life behind them. At Harry's insistence they poked their noses into the other bedrooms and the rather modern bathroom. The master bedroom at the back of the house had been stripped clean of anything personal; nail holes in the walls showed where family portraits or paintings might have hung. The mirror over Lily's dressing table was cracked as was the mirror over the fireplace. The two other bedrooms were just as bare, although the larger of the two looked as if it could have been a child's bedroom.

Eventually, Harry led them back down to the foyer and then out to the gatehouse where he let Ginny, Ron and Hermione pass through the gate before him.

Mr Campbell came out of the gatehouse as Harry closed the gate. "Happy Christmas, Mr Potter," he said. "It was good to see you again. I promise not to tell anyone you were here."

Harry smiled at him. "Thanks, I appreciate that," he said extending his hand. "Hey, remember to pick up the bonus I told you about on your way home tonight."

Mr Campbell shook Harry's hand, clasping it firmly between both of his. "I will, and thank you."

"No, thank you, Mr Campbell," Harry said, looking embarrassed. "If it wasn't for you and the other gatekeepers I wouldn't have the Memorial to come back to. It meant a lot to finally go inside it."

"Our pleasure, Mr Potter, our pleasure," said Mr Campbell warmly. He shook hands with Ron, Hermione and finally Ginny before magically locking the gate and returning to the warmth of the gatehouse.

Harry blew out a breath the floated away over their heads. He looked physically drained by the emotional roller coaster he'd been on. "Wow, what a day," he remarked, taking Ginny's hand.

"We got a lot accomplished," Hermione said.

"Gwenyn's far nicer than Grimmauld Place," Ron commented.

"No screaming portraits," Ginny chimed in.

"Come on. Let's go home," Harry said tiredly, and he led the way back to Gwenyn where they Disapparated from the back steps.

**End of Chapter 24**


	25. 25 Christmas

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Christmas**

Ginny had always thought her favourite time of year was the lazy months of summer when she could spend as much time outside enjoying the beautiful weather, regardless of the heat, as her mother would allow. However, this year the Christmas hols were her favourite.

The Burrow was full of laughter despite the Darkness that shrouded the Wizarding world. More guests than ever made the ramshackle house bulge at the seams, as Dark times made people realize just how priceless their time together was. One never knew when the Death Eaters would appear.

This year… _Harry_ was here. Of course, he'd been with them last year (Ginny smiled, remembering the carved box for his Pensieve that she'd given him, while fingering the beautiful emerald earrings and necklace he'd given her), but because of the events of the summer and fall, his presence in the house was especially precious. Because he was with them, everyone was cheerier, more pranks had been played and, even though it was the same height it always was, the tree seemed bigger and brighter.

Christmas Eve morning dawned bright and cold. Ginny woke to the wonderful aromas of frying bacon and baking buttermilk scones and a shaft of rare winter sunshine falling across her blankets. She dressed hurriedly to escape the chilliness of the room, making just enough noise to rouse Hermione. As her friend pushed her bushy hair from her eyes, Ginny paused at the door. "Happy Christmas Eve," she said with a grin before hurrying downstairs to try to beat Ron and Dudley to the food. As she emerged from the stairwell, she pulled up in surprise, for her parents were placidly sitting at the table, sipping tea and perusing the morning paper.

"Good morning, Ginny!" Harry called from in front of the cooker.

Ginny shut her mouth with a snap and flashed him a smile. "Morning, Harry! How come you're making breakfast?" she asked, sitting down in her usual place.

"It's Harry's gift to me, sweetheart," her mother said. "I can't remember when I've had a more relaxing morning."

Ginny grabbed the teapot and poured herself a cup as Harry asked, "Bacon or sausage?"

"Both!" Ron and Dudley answered as they joined the three at the table. Ginny giggled and added, "Just bacon, please, Harry."

Dudley grabbed the juice pitcher and filled his glass to the top. He drank the whole thing in one long gulp, than sat back with a satisfied smirk on his face. "Mmmm, good stuff. Just like when we were kids, eh Harry?" he asked. "You making breakfast, me waiting to enjoy it."

Harry shot Dudley a dirty look and said nothing. Ron glared at him and challenged, "When are _you_ making breakfast, _Dudders_?"

"Day after tomorrow, Boxing Day," Dudley replied without missing a beat.

Ron suddenly found his place setting very interesting. Ginny giggled and turned her attention to her mum who had put down her section of the paper and was now looking directly at Dudley.

"Thank you, dear," Mrs Weasley said, smiling at him. "It will be nice to see how well you've learned what we've covered in your cooking lessons."

Dudley's ears turned red.

"Where's Hermione?" Mr Weasley asked, probably to cover the suddenly awkward silence.

"She'll be down in a minute," Percy answered as he, Bill and Fleur entered the kitchen. "Happy Christmas a day early, everyone."

When everyone, including Hermione, was seated, Harry sent the platters and serving bowls he'd filled to the table and they began filling their plates. Ginny watched Harry over her tea cup as the compliments about his meal began rolling about the table: pretty soon his ears were as red as Ron's hair.

"Does anyone want to play Quidditch after breakfast?" Ginny asked the table at large.

Harry's face fell as the others enthusiastically agreed to the game and her mum commented that it might be too cold. Ginny nudged his foot under the table. When he looked up she said quietly, "Charlie's old broom is out in the shed. You should ride it."

He gave her a wan smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thanks," he muttered half-heartedly.

"You don't have to play if you don't want to," she replied, concerned that he was afraid to get back on a broom.

"I'll think about it," Harry shrugged. "It won't be the same without my Firebolt."

"I know that, but you should play anyway. It's time you got back on a broom," Ginny said.

"Okay. I'll play," he said, still sounding reluctant.

Everyone helped with the clean-up and then they all marched out to the broom shed to get their brooms. Ginny felt sad as Harry accepted Charlie's old Cleansweep seven.

_Don't feel sorry for me, Ginny,_ Harry said, opening their connection. _The Firebolt served me well and it even saved Professor Dumbledore from a terrifying death. I just need some time to get over missing it._

Ginny looked up into his expressive green eyes. _I know, Harry. I just wish the Death Eaters hadn't destroyed your broom._

A dejected sigh escaped Harry as he shouldered the Cleansweep and started after Ron and Percy. _Yeah, me, too,_ he agreed. They walked in silence for a bit and then Harry squared his shoulders and said, _Enough! I'm going to have fun on this broom today!_

Ginny patted Harry's back. _That's the spirit, Potter! We're going to flatten Fred and George when they get here later._

The group played two-a-side Quidditch all morning and into the early afternoon after Fred and George joined them. They even changed their standard rules to shake things up a bit by substituting players into and out of the match whenever one or the other side scored. This led to much laughter because no one could remember which team they were on. Eventually, they became so mixed up that someone, Ginny suspected Fred and George, started bewitching snowballs to act as Bludgers. It didn't take long after that for the match to dissolve into a full-blown snowball fight. Dudley, who had been watching from the sidelines with Hermione, joined in to even up the sides. While his accuracy wasn't very good, the snowballs that did hit their marks hit hard enough to hurt.

Along about half past three, Mr Weasley came out to see what was going on and to invite them all back inside for hot cocoa and biscuits. Soggy and suddenly cold, the combatants dug themselves out of the snow, shouldered their brooms and traipsed back to the house arguing about whose snowball had made the biggest splat.

Ginny snuggled under Harry's arm as he walked with Ron and Hermione towards the broom shed. He seemed genuinely happy and she hoped that, even for a little while, he had been able to forget about the burdens of who he was. They were nearly there when Ron asked, "So how was it to be back on a broom?"

Harry sucked in a sharp breath, his shoulders suddenly tensing. Ron must have heard him because he briefly put a hand on Harry's shoulder and the four friends stopped walking. They stood in a small circle waiting for Harry's answer.

"Bittersweet, Ron."

"How's that?"

"Well, brilliant, but sad, too." Ron raised an eyebrow. "I, er, had a terrific time up there, but I couldn't help remembering that the last time I flew, Dumbledore had his broom shot out from under him and it was all I could do to stop him from falling to his death." Harry trailed off and Ginny realized this was the first time Harry had told them anything about the day of the kidnapping. She slipped her arm more securely around his waist and hugged him to her as George walked by and clapped him on the shoulder.

Ron's face was sombre as he said sincerely, "I'm sorry I brought up bad memories, Harry."

Harry sighed heavily. "It's all right, Ron. I had to face that memory sometime and I'd rather not face it alone."

Hermione squeezed Harry's arm supportively. "Any time you need to talk about it, you know we'll listen, Harry," she said.

A sad little smile played at the corners of his mouth. "Thanks. That means a lot," he murmured, looking at each of them in turn.

They said very little as they put their brooms away and headed into the kitchen to warm up. It was evening before Harry smiled at anyone.

The next morning, Ginny woke to darkness, the usual pile of gifts nestled at the foot of her bed. With a squeal of glee, she rummaged through them looking for the one from Harry: she wanted to set it aside for last. She found a small package and set it apart from the others, just as Hermione emerged from beneath the blankets. The older girl smiled at her.

"Happy Christmas, Ginny," she said, pulling a large, squashy package from her pile. "Yes! My own Weasley jumper!" A moment later Hermione had pulled on a pale pink jumper accented with a maroon chevron pattern on the upper sleeves and body.

"Ron's going to like your jumper, Hermione. I think the chevrons are knitted from the same yarn Mum used on his jumper last year," Ginny remarked, pulling on her own pale gold and emerald green sweater.

Hermione giggled. "So will Harry!"

When she had finished opening all her gifts except Harry's, Ginny dressed quickly and made her bed before she ventured downstairs with it, leaving Hermione happily writing down all her presents. Harry's good-morning kiss, when Ginny stepped off the last stair into the empty kitchen, started the day just right.

"You're up early," he commented, leading her to the table and pulling her chair out for her.

She smiled as she sat down and he poured her a cup of tea. "Too excited to sleep," she explained. "I've always been an early riser on Christmas morning." She took a sip of her tea. "How come you're up early?"

Harry made a face. "I'd forgotten how loudly Ron snores sometimes," he said ruefully. "I finally gave up wishing I was back in Bill's room by myself about an hour ago."

"Hermione was up late last night with her nose stuck in a huge book she brought back from Hogwarts," Ginny remarked with a yawn. "I was afraid we'd still be up when our presents appeared on our beds." She picked up the box she'd brought downstairs with her. "I saved yours for last," she told him.

Harry sighed heavily. "I'll apologize now before you open it. It's not what I really wanted to give you," he said.

Ginny paused in her careful unwrapping of his gift to give him her brightest smile. "Harry, I'll like whatever is in here just because you gave it to me," she said.

"Well, all right, then."

She folded the paper and set it next to her saucer. She gasped when she lifted the lid and found a silver tennis bracelet lying on a square of cotton fluff. "Harry, this is gorgeous!" she exclaimed, taking it out and holding it up for closer inspection.

"You like it?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

Ginny held out her right wrist. "Yes! Now help me put it on, please," she requested.

Harry took the bracelet from her and fastened it around her arm. "It looks nicer than I thought it would," he said. "I wanted to get you something to go with what I gave you last year, but…"

Ginny leaned over and gave him a hug, silencing him and feeling glad when he didn't flinch and hugged her back. "Thank you, Harry," she said. "Have you opened my gift?"

"Yes, I did. I've already put the photo on my bedside table," he said, smiling at her.

"Colin Creevey took it. He gave me two copies; one for you and one for me back in September. Mine's been next to my bed at school ever since. It was a tremendous help…" Ginny trailed off, lost in the memory. She shook off the melancholy feeling as Harry's stomach rumbled, making them both giggle.

"I'll have to thank him," Harry said. He walked over to the work surface and stared at the small stack of recipes Mrs Weasley had left there. A slow smile spread across his face, catching Ginny's full attention. "Want to surprise your mum again? Let's make breakfast two days in a row."

Ginny grinned back and picked up her cup and saucer. "Yes, let's. You'll be one up on Dudley, you know," she said slyly.

Harry's eyes flashed behind his glasses. "You read my mind, Ginny," he said, his smile widening to a feral grin. He picked up the stack of recipe cards and began leafing through them. "What do you want to make? I'll whip up some more of those scones I made yesterday."

Her mother was extremely pleased to find Ginny and Harry busily tending the cooker when she and the others came downstairs nearly an hour later. She thanked them and then donned her apron to help with the finishing touches to the meal.

"Harry," Dudley said as he reached for his fourth scone sometime later, "you're going to be a hard act to follow tomorrow. I apologize for taking the micky out on you yesterday."

"Apology accepted," Harry said graciously as someone knocked at the door.

Mr Weasley went to answer it. He came back to the table leading Remus Lupin and Tonks and then left again to put the packages they had brought with them under the tree. Mrs Weasley whipped out her wand and conjured chairs for the newcomers.

"Wotcher, everyone!" Tonks cried cheerfully and Remus added, "Happy Christmas!" They sat down and began filling the plates that Mrs Weasley sent down the table to them.

"Molly, this is delicious," Tonks said, raising a fork loaded with sausage and egg.

Mrs Weasley inclined her head towards Ginny and Harry. "Don't thank me," she said. "Thank my daughter and Harry."

They did and Ginny stifled a titter as the tips of Harry's ears turned a delicate shade of pink.

When everyone was happily full, Ginny stood up to collect the plates. Hermione pulled out her wand and sent a parade of platters back to the work surface as Mr Weasley asked who wanted to play "elf" this year; the pile of presents under the Christmas tree was enormous and the "elf" was going to need some assistance. Ron, Fred and George volunteered and, as soon as Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy, Harry, Lupin, Tonks, and Mr Weasley were seated in the sitting room, they began distributing the colourful packages to their recipients.

Ginny looked up from the frying pan she was scrubbing and elbowed Hermione. "Look at Dudley," she whispered. Hermione glanced over to where Harry's cousin stood in the doorway, staring at the organized chaos that was the sitting room.

"I think he's a little shell-shocked," she whispered back. "I'll go rescue him." She put her tea towel on Ginny's shoulder and walked into the sitting room. Ginny watched what would happen next with interest.

"Where's Dudley's pile?" Hermione asked the room at large.

George pointed to a smallish pile. "Over there."

Hermione murmured something to Dudley and led him to a spot on the floor that was separated from Harry by another huge pile of presents. Dudley's eyes widened as he realized that Harry's pile was three times a large as his own. Hermione returned to the kitchen as he settled himself and said not a word until the 'elves' finished distributing the gifts.

"Ginny, Hermione, Molly, dear, we're ready for you," Mr Weasley called.

Ginny wrung out her cloth and emptied the sink of water. "Ah, my favourite time of Christmas morning," she remarked, following Hermione into the sitting room.

"Mine, too, Ginny," said Hermione. She spied Ron sitting on the sofa guarding two piles of presents and made her way over to him. He moved over, making room for her, while Ginny found her place between Harry and Dudley.

"Enjoying yourself, Mr Potter?" she asked.

"Absolutely, Miss Weasley," he replied.

"Listen, everyone, we're going to take turns this year," Mrs Weasley called out from her place on the other side of the room.

A general groan went up from all corners of the room, but at least for the first two rounds everyone was polite and watched each present as it was unwrapped. Then Fred, Ginny's most impatient of brothers at Christmas, pulled a small brightly-wrapped gift from his pile and tore off the wrapping out of turn. In the stage whisper he used every year, he held up the gift—a pair of Puddlemere United boxer shorts—and said, "Thank you, George. You're a man after Oliver's own heart."

The room dissolved into gales of laughter which signalled the general consensus that everyone was free to tear into the piles of gifts without waiting their turn. From her place between Mr Weasley and the Christmas tree, Mrs Weasley sighed at the lack of order and called, "Thank you, Fred, for waiting until we've all seen _some_ of the gifts."

Fred called back, "My pleasure, Mum!" and dove into his pile with gusto. He extracted a box wrapped in plain brown paper, read what was written on the wrapping, and called, "You're welcome, Harry. Have you opened yours from me yet?" just before Mrs Weasley aimed her wand at the wireless "on" switch.

Another, softer, groan flew round the room as Celestina Warbeck's voice warbled through the calls of "thank you!" and "you shouldn't have!" and "this is exactly what I asked for!" Ginny looked up, a warm feeling filling her as she watched her family and their guests—there was nothing like Christmas to bring out the best in her family—and she noticed that both Harry and Dudley had similar expressions on their faces; both young men looked slightly bewildered, but still pleased with their presents. She smiled to herself, knowing that once the hubbub had receded Harry was going to look a lot happier.

She turned to Dudley. "Having a good time?" she asked.

Dudley clutched a small box containing a gift certificate to the Ottery St Mary's book store that he'd just unwrapped: the card included with the certificate stated it was a gift from Hermione. "Yeah, I… I think," he said vaguely.

"What's the matter? It looks like you received some very nice gifts," Ginny commented. She genuinely was curious as to why Dudley wasn't enjoying himself.

"I did." Dudley's ears turned pink. "They are nice, but I… er… I'm used to getting a lot more," he said quietly.

"From your parents?" Ginny prompted.

"Yes, but I didn't get anything from them today," he said, sounding quite sad.

"Did your mum say anything about how she was sending your presents when you saw her on Monday?" she asked.

Dudley sighed. "No, she didn't. In fact, she gave me her gift that day and had me open it in front of her."

"That must have been fun to get to open something before Christmas," Ginny commented. She smiled encouragingly at him for he didn't seem very pleased at all. "At least you received one gift from her. Do you mind my asking what she gave you?"

"It's OK, Ginny. I don't mind," he said glumly. "She gave me twenty pounds wrapped in a new handkerchief and said not to expect any more gifts from them, and that Dad hadn't wanted her to give me the money." He put the certificate back on his pile.

Stunned, Ginny murmured, "I'm so sorry she treated you like that, Dudley."

He looked up at her, his expression bleak. "I guess I should have expected her to react like that. I mean, she and Dad never remembered Harry at Christmas or if they did, they sent him something stupid like a paper clip or a tissue. I think they resent my decision to help you look for Harry, so it's almost a given that they would treat me like they treated him for so long."

He looked so dejected that Ginny thought she should try to cheer him up. She picked up the scarf her mother had made for Dudley and handed it to him. "Dudley, take a good look at this gift," she said, hoping that she wouldn't come across as too overbearing. "What do you see? And who did you get it from?"

Dudley studied the scarf, turning it over several times and even running his fingers through the fringe. A smile played at the corners of his mouth as he said, "It's hand made and I got it from your mum. She made it for me, didn't she? I… I even think I saw her making it one night."

"Dudley, Mum never makes things for strangers or people she doesn't like," she said.

He glanced over at Mrs Weasley and then back at Ginny. He touched the sleeve of her Weasley jumper as he said, "It's the nicest gift I've ever gotten." Ginny raised an eyebrow. "No one has ever _made_ anything for me. They've always gone out and purchased whatever I whinged about not having. This is the first time anybody has _made_ something… for _me._"

He leaned back in his chair looking decidedly happier. "I'm sorry that I sounded like my old self," he said finally.

Ginny chuckled. "Apology accepted. Now, tell me about your other gifts…"

As Fleur announced that she was opening the last of her and Bill's joint presents, Dudley told Ginny about the other things he had received. He was pleased with Hermione's certificate and the stationery and biros from Ginny. Fred and George had given him a small box of Wheezes. He had received a nice variety of both magical and Muggle sweets from Ron and Percy as well as a certificate to the men's shop in Ottery St Catchpole from Bill and Fleur.

The last gift he showed her was from Harry. "I don't know how he was able to get me something so nice," Dudley said, handing Ginny a rather large Swiss Army Knife. "The only time he's left The Burrow was last Monday when the four of you went to Godric's Hollow."

Ginny put a tentative hand on Dudley's arm. "Harry's part of our family, Dudley. He has been for a long time and when a Weasley needs help the other Weasleys figure out how solve the problem. That's what happened with Harry's gifts this year; he gave us a list of what he wanted to buy and we all chipped in and purchased things for him. You were on the list, so someone chose that model for you. That's what families do, or at least what our family does for each other."

"I never thought I'd say this, but I think I'm a little jealous of Harry," Dudley sighed.

"How so?" she asked, giving the knife back.

Dudley chuckled, "He's been an honorary Weasley much longer than I have!"

Ron leaned over Hermione. "When did Dudley become an honorary Weasley?"

Ginny picked up Dudley's new scarf. "Mum knitted this for him."

Nodding his head, Ron remarked, "Yep, you're an honorary Weasley, all right, Dudley. Once Mum starts knitting for you, you're as good as family."

Dudley grinned and turned his attention to Mr Weasley who had stood up. He cleared his throat. The others in the room quieted and waited for him. From behind the Christmas tree, he pulled one last package; a long, broom-shaped parcel wrapped in gaudy Christmas paper and tied with a very fancy bow.

He cleared his throat as he stepped over to Harry and handed it to him. "Harry," he began, "this gift is from everyone here. We all pitched in to get it for you. I know it will never replace your Firebolt, but a wizard needs transportation and we hope you like what we were able to get you."

Harry had stood up while Ginny's father had been talking and, without opening the wrapping, threw his arms around the older wizard and hugged him tightly. They stepped back after several seconds and Harry opened the broom.

"It's a Cleansweep Eleven, just like Ron's!" he exclaimed, looking extremely pleased. "Wow! I… I… er… thank you, all of you!"

**oOo**

Dudley's Boxing Day breakfast turned out to be excellent. He created a full English breakfast complete with bacon, sausage, kippers, eggs, fried tomatoes, and two kinds of scones. It looked wonderful and everyone complimented him on how good it was.

However, Ginny wasn't in the mood to enjoy it. Earlier, her mother had sent her up to Ron's room with some gifts her brother had left in the sitting room and when she reached his door, she heard Ron and Hermione arguing with Harry. She listened just long enough to realize that they were discussing another excursion without her input… again! She was about to leave the gifts outside the door and go back downstairs when she heard her name.

Curious, she fished through her pockets, looking for an Extendable Ear. She didn't have one, so she pressed her ear to the door. They were talking nearly in whispers now and she caught phrases like, "Ginny will never forgive you…" and "She's perfectly capable…" and "you've got to let her fight with you."

Smiling sadly, she realized that Hermione and Ron were pleading her case to Harry. However, that didn't make her feel any better about being left at home _again. _ She turned abruptly and went back down to the kitchen where she pushed her breakfast around on her plate and avoided her mum's eyes as well as Harry's. When the breakfast dishes were done, she excused herself and spent the day in her room doing homework and avoiding all contact with her family and friends.

It wasn't until dinner that she heard that after Bill and Fleur left Harry had moved back into his room. For the sake of her own sanity and in the interest of having a good time the rest of the holiday, now that her homework was completed, Ginny pushed her resentment to the back of her mind and decided to forgive Harry… for now.

**oOo**

The evening of 29 December, Harry, Ron and Hermione were holed up in Harry's room again. The door was locked and sound-proofed, but not Imperturbed like the doors at Grimmauld Place had been before her fourth year._ Last minute plans,_ she thought as she unrolled her Extendable Ear and pushed it under the door. Instantly, Hermione's voice became crystal clear; she seemed to be trying to persuade Harry to see her point.

"…dangerous to your health, Harry. At least wait until you've got your full strength back," she said querulously.

"I'm not waiting, Hermione," Harry shot back. "I made a promise to Dumbledore that I'd get rid of the remaining Horcruxes as soon as I could if we were ever rescued. It's been nearly four months since I made that promise and three months since you rescued us. That's three months too many, Hermione, that You Know Who has had free reign over the Ministry. You read the paper this morning. They've already branded nearly two thousand half-bloods and Muggle-borns and sentenced a thousand more to Azkaban since October! And they're _proud_ of it!" Harry was nearly yelling now. "Do you want us to be thrown in jail just because of our blood status?"

Hermione let out a strangled wail and Ginny heard the floorboards creak. A moment later, Ron's voice began murmuring indistinctly. On the other side of the door, Ginny sagged against the doorjamb, feeling horrible about what she'd just heard and knowing what Harry was probably going to say next. He didn't disappoint her.

"Ron, Hermione, I need to go back to Godric's Hollow soon," he said in a much quieter voice. "I need you two to come with me because we've always faced You Know Who together. I need your strength and support to get this done, to fulfil the prophecy. Will you come with me?"

It was quiet for a while and Ginny had nearly decided to roll in the Ear when Ron asked, "When are we going?"

"New Year's Eve morning, Tom Riddle's birthday," Harry said. "If I have to face him as a result of getting rid of those last three Horcruxes, I can't think of a better birthday present than sending him to purgatory on the day he was born!"

Ginny had heard enough. She rolled up her Extendable Ear and sprinted down the stairs to her room. Grabbing a self-inking quill from her desk drawer, she began writing furiously.

_Bill, _

_You and the Order need to know this. Harry, Ron and Hermione are going to Godric's Hollow graveyard on New Year's Eve morning. There may be trouble if they're not careful, so please ask all Order members to remain sober that day. I'll let you know via that coin I gave you._

_Ginny_

She wrote a similar note to Neville. Satisfied that they would know what to do with her missives, Ginny encoded them and sent them off with Hedwig. It was midnight before the snowy owl returned, bearing two one-word answers: "Thanks."

**oOo**

Two days later, as the sun rose on New Year's Eve morning, Ginny watched from her bedroom window as Harry, Ron and Hermione once again set out on an adventure that promised to result in one of three things: Harry's death, the procurement of three Horcruxes—whatever those were—or both. She waited five minutes after a note, written in Harry's messy handwriting, was pushed under her door. Then she quietly let herself out of the house, determined to follow the three to Godric's Hollow to try to give them whatever protection she could provide and hoping they would all return to The Burrow safely at the end of the day. Only the owls returning from their nocturnal flights heard her Disapparate.

**End of Chapter Twenty-five**

**A/N:** Well, there it is… my Christmas chapter in August.

This was a fun chapter to write because it allowed me to explore such a range of emotions for all the principle characters. It was also fun to write Dudley trying to dig himself out of some of the holes he'd created for himself with his careless remarks.

As always, a big thank you goes out to my beta team of Jedi34, GhostWriter and Aggiebell. You've all added a tremendous amount to the chapter and I always enjoy your comments. Thanks for all the hard work you put into this chapter.

To my readers, thank you for the encouraging comments in your reviews. I appreciate every single one of them, no matter the length, and look forward to what you have to say about this chapter. Thanks for reading…


	26. 26 The Last Adventure

**Chapter 26: The Last Adventure**

New Year's Eve morning dawned clear and cold as Harry, Ron and Hermione emerged from the warmth of the Burrow and stealthily made their way past the gate and into the lane leading towards Ottery St Catchpole, Hermione erasing their footsteps in the snow with her wand as they went.

At a bend in the lane, Harry turned around for one last look at the house. A wave of emotion engulfed him, causing him to stop completely as he recognized the familiar feeling. The guilt that he was once again leaving Ginny behind ate at his insides, but he thrust the feeling away knowing that to dwell on it would distract him from his ultimate goal of finding and destroying the last three Horcruxes. Deep down, he knew Ginny understood… at least he hoped she would.

"It'll be all right, mate," Ron said bracingly, tugging at Harry's sleeve.

Harry bowed his head as he turned back around. "I just hope she understands why I left her behind again," he said bleakly.

"Did you leave her a note like you promised?" Hermione inquired.

"Yeah, but I'm not sure she's willing to forgive me for leaving her behind without telling her first," Harry responded.

"She will, Harry. Both Ginny and Mum have cottoned on to the fact that what we're doing is important to the war effort," Ron said.

Another wave of guilt swept over Harry as he thought of Mrs Weasley and all she had done for him these past few months. He pushed it away and concentrated with all his might on Apparating onto the hilltop in Godric's Hollow Cemetery. When the Potter Family crypt loomed large in his mind's eye he said, "Let's go." Both Ron and Hermione nodded curtly and the three Disapparated from the lane, leaving only a trampled place in the snow to mark their point of departure.

They landed in front of the Godric's Hollow church instead of the little mausoleum marked "Potter." Hermione asked, "Anti-Apparition charms?"

Harry nodded. "Amongst other things. I should have remembered that," he said. "I suppose this place is protected by all sorts of enchantments."

Hermione smiled her agreement and stood aside to let Harry pass through the graveyard gate. With a quick nod, Harry led the way up the hill, drawing his wand when they neared the Wizarding part of the cemetery. The magical graves appeared and Harry walked purposefully towards the top of the hill, Ron and Hermione hurrying after him.

Ron put his gloved hand on Harry's shoulder as they approached the Potter crypt. "Do you want us to go in there with you?" he asked.

Harry shook his head, taking in the supportive expressions on his friends' faces. "Thanks, but no," he said. "This is something I have to do by myself."

"We'll wait out here, then," Hermione said, her eyes zeroing in on Ron.

He ignored her. "We'll keep an eye out for anything suspicious," he said, hesitantly removing his hand from Harry's shoulder.

Harry smiled at them. "I appreciate it," he said sincerely and walked away, leaving his friends to draw their wands and begin circling the small building.

Harry took off his gloves and placed a trembling hand upon the cold metal of the iron gate, feeling it warm a little under his touch. Dumbledore had explained that he would feel this, for the magic cast upon the gate was identifying his magical signature. The lock clicked and the gate swung open, allowing him to pass into the crypt. The air was slightly warmer inside only because the little window on the back wall blocked the wind and allowed the feeble sunlight that streamed in to warm the stone ledge beneath it.

Harry shut the gate and quietly drew Gryffindor's sword from the sheath he'd conjured the night before. His eyes raked the window ledge where he knew Nagini would most likely be. He was right. She was coiled tightly on the sunniest patch of stone, in position to drop onto his parents' headstones if she needed to.

"_S-s-so we meet again,"_ the serpent hissed.

"_I knew you'd be here. Tom is so very fond of snakes,"_ Harry responded, stepping closer and shuddering inwardly as the Parseltongue rolled off his lips. The tip of the sword scraped metallically across the floor, catching Nagini's attention.

"_How did you get in here?"_ he continued, drawing the snake's attention back to himself. "_No one is supposed to be able to get past Dumbledore's enchantments."_

"_Oh, you naive boy,"_ Nagini hissed,_ "You had no idea how much I followed you on my visit las-s-st July. You and Dumbledore led me right to the place. The res-s-s-t was s-s-simple."_

Harry didn't comment, afraid that if he did, Nagini would have time to ready herself for a fight. Instead, he stepped further into the crypt, careful to keep the sword's point from scraping the floor again, and locked the gate behind him.

She now raised her head, preparing to strike, but a cold snake is a lethargic snake, and Nagini was a cold snake. With one swift movement, Harry swung the sword in a wide arch. It connected with Nagini's body, neatly beheading her. As her head sailed out the door, Harry heard the slightest of whimpers coming from the body. A tendril of vapour followed it, causing Harry to shudder. The living Horcrux was no more.

Harry dropped the sword with a clatter and slumped to the crypt floor as the adrenalin left his body. _One down, two to go, _he thought. _ I just hope Dumbledore was right about the location of the other two…_

Without warning, his scar began to throb and his surroundings changed abruptly. Harry was now no longer in the crypt, but alone in a dark room. He sat in an over-stuffed armchair watching the flames dance in the grate and waiting for Nagini to bring him news. But she was overdue. She always appeared at his side at day break, tired and in need of food and a nap on the rug before the fire. Instead, deep inside him he felt a searing pain that caused him to cry out while his long white fingers clutched at his breast.

"Nagini!" he cried. "What has he done to you that is causing me such pain?"

He could hardly stand it. His head now felt as if it would explode and he dug the nails of one hand into his skull, seeking to dig out the thing that was causing his agony. Then he remembered, remembered what it had felt like to possess Potter, remembered the white-hot lightning bolts that suffused his soul and forced him to vacate the mind he so desperately longed to plunder for its secrets.

But if that was not meant to be, then why was he feeling such pain? The answer came to him in a flash of enlightenment so brilliant, he was nearly blinded.

_Potter has killed Nagini!_

He clutched at the arms of the chair, digging his nails into the fabric and hearing it rip. If Nagini was dead, then what had become of the other Horcruxes? Were they still safe in their hiding places? Or had a fate as heinous as Nagini's killing been heaped upon them? He had to know, he had to be certain.

Rising from his chair, he began to pace in front of the fire, his anger building as he reviewed the hiding places in which he had secured his Horcruxes. The diary was no longer in existence, Potter had seen to that. He feared his family's ring had gone the way of the diary, this time at the hands of Albus Dumbledore; he had felt something back in June when his ancestral home had been razed and he had not been able to find a trace of the ring in the ashes. He laced his fingers behind his back, thinking hard. A malicious smile curved his lips as he thought of the hiding places where Salazar Slytherin's locket and Hufflepuff's cup rested; no one would have dared to try breaching the defences he'd set up around them. He felt certain, too, that the location of Ravenclaw's wand had not been discovered; only someone who could speak Parseltongue, like Potter, could open the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

_Harry Potter!_ There was that name again! He was behind all this pain!

"YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS, POTTER!" he roared, storming to the door of the room and flinging it open. The morning light, shining through the windows of the dwelling's corridors, blinded him momentarily, and then he turned in place and Disapparated to the old derelict mansion on the outskirts of Little Hangleton and began ransacking the upstairs room, looking for Hufflepuff's cup, only to find it gone…

The vision ended as suddenly as it had begun. Harry lay where he was, afraid to move, lest the throbbing of his scar redouble with the return of Voldemort's wrath.

Ron stuck his head close to the gate and whispered, "You all right in there, Harry?"

His friend's voice helping to revive him, Harry answered, "Yeah. That was easier than I thought."

"The head flew clear over the gate," Ron said, sounding somewhat awestruck. "Hermione's gone to get it." He paused. "I'll let you get back to it."

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said, kneeling in front of his parents' headstone and already beginning to focus his attention on the next task at hand.

Ron's voice came to him as if from the far entrance to a tunnel. "I wish I could help you…"

Harry nodded in agreement as he brushed dirt and the shrivelled bouquet he'd conjured on his last visit away from the grave. "I wish you could, too, but Dumbledore made it clear that this was something only I could do," he said. Ron said nothing and Harry knew he had accepted that, due to Professor Trelawney's Prophesy, Harry was the only one who could carry out the next part of the adventure.

The light this near the ground was too low for Harry to see anything properly, so he lit his wand and stuck it between his teeth. Moving swiftly, he prodded the headstone until he found the corner that rocked slightly under his touch. He pushed harder and gasped as the heavy stone suddenly floated upwards and deposited itself beside him on the floor of the crypt. He swallowed and shown his light inside the hole.

Inside were two metal urns, a cloth bag and a box containing a large stone bowl. _Dumbledore's Pensieve…_ _It's all here, exactly as Dumbledore indicated_. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and lifted the bag and the box out of the hole. The bag was light, the bowl heavier than he expected as he deposited them on the floor. He turned when he heard the marble slab scrape against the floor as, once again, magic he had no knowledge of levitated the headstone. Just before it dropped into place, Harry stuck his hand back in the hole to gently caress the lids of his parents' urns. A moment later, with a soft 'thump', the stone settled slowly into place, concealing what was left of his parents. He then steeled himself for what he had to do next.

Harry now cast a series of spells Dumbledore had planted in his memory to eliminate any Dark curses that might have been put on the contents of the bag. Then, with fingers shaking with excitement, he opened the drawstring and pulled out a large glass phial filled with a silvery substance followed by the Horcruxes: Slytherin's ring, Hufflepuff's cup, Ravenclaw's broken wand and finally the locket.

"Gotcha, Tom Riddle!" Harry said grimly as he picked up the sword.

He raised it high over his head, preparing to plunge the tip into the last two Horcruxes. His movement stirred the air and something fluttered about on the floor. Putting down the sword, Harry picked it up and discovered it was a letter from Professor Dumbledore. He began reading eagerly, but the longer he read, the worse he felt…

_My dearest Harry,_

_You have finally reached the point of no return. If you have indeed dispatched the snake, Nagini, you have up to an hour to finish the task and leave before the crypt is surrounded by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. If your friends are with you, remind them that only you can touch the gate safely; anyone else will be cursed. Also, although no one can Apparate _into_ the crypt, anyone inside can Disapparate out of it. I have placed the appropriate spells for your safety. Depending upon the circumstances of the moment, use this information to your advantage._

_Harry, I am so very sorry that I cannot be with you in the approaching battle. It seems that life has determined that we are not to fight together for the common good. Therefore, I have left you this final copy of my list. _

_Riddle's Diary—destroyed (May 1993)_

_Slytherin's Ring—deactivated/destroyed (June 1997)_

_Slytherin's Locket—destroyed?_

_Hufflepuff's Cup—destroyed?_

_Nagini the snake—beheaded/destroyed?_

_Ravenclaw's Wand—destroyed (July 1997)_

_Unknown Object 2—Yes, Harry, there most definitely is an eighth Horcrux. Please empty the contents of the vial into your Pensieve and have a look inside my memories for an explanation._

_You have done very, very well, my friend. I hope you will forgive this old man his mistakes and his shortcomings when it came to you, your feelings and your safety. It is with a heavy heart that I ask you to view these last memories. If I could go back in time and change what has happened to you, I would, for no one deserves to be put through the things you've been asked to bear. _

_However, there is one thing I would not change and that is the time I have spent getting to know you. I have cherished every minute I could watch you grow and mature into the man you have become. You are a remarkable wizard, Harry, so strong of spirit, so kind, so selfless, and so worthy of belonging to our noble House of Gryffindor. _

_Now, as you complete this final task, please keep in mind that even though I am gone from this earth, I love you with all my heart. If I can, if my next great adventure allows it, I will be watching over you, just as I know James and Lily and Sirius will be watching, too. _

_All of us are incredibly proud of you. Good luck…_

_Signed this 30th Day of July 1997 with all my love,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

When he finished reading, the parchment fell from his limp fingers. Harry's knees buckled and he groped for the wall of the crypt to steady himself as the finality of the situation hit him fully. A strangled whimper escaped his lips, "Oh, God!"

It was time.

Ever since he had read the amended list back in Dumbledore's office Harry had felt that the headmaster was holding something back, something critically important having to do with Voldemort and himself. In a matter of seconds, he would have his suspicions either confirmed or nullified. Harry sank to his knees, his breathing shallow. His hands shook terribly as he drew Dumbledore's—no,_ his—_Pensieve towards him_._

_Am I Gryffindor enough to do this?_ Harry asked himself. However, he already knew the answer; Dumbledore wouldn't have spent all that time preparing him, wouldn't have willed him the Pensieve and wouldn't have written such a passionate letter if he expected Harry was going to walk away and leave the Wizarding world to Voldemort. The letter had made that plain.

There was only one thing left to do. Harry drew his wand and Summoned the vial. When it reached his hand, he poured the contents into the basin. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, leaned forward, and touched his nose to silvery memories swirling inside.

Instantly, he fell forward into the memory. His feet touched the ground and he found himself standing behind Professor Dumbledore's chair in the Great Hall. A line of terrified-looking first years was being paraded before the teacher's table.

_A Sorting, but not one I've seen,_ Harry thought. He scanned the children's faces and discovered six he knew: Severus Snape stood quite close to, almost touching, Lily Evans near the end of the line of students; Peter Pettigrew was sandwiched somewhere in the middle between two unknown students, as was a boy who looked like Remus Lupin; and then Harry spotted two boys with black hair, one wearing glasses—his father, James Potter—standing near the head of the line.

He watched eagerly as Sirius Black was Sorted into Gryffindor. His mother soon followed him and as she left the three-legged stool she waved to young Severus, who looked sadly at her. _They must be friends,_ Harry thought as the next student approached the three-legged stool. _I wonder how they know each other._

Dumbledore's attention wavered from the Sorting as Madam Pomfrey asked him a question Harry could not hear. At length, the headmaster nodded to the boy now being Sorted and the two adults clapped politely as Remus Lupin walked over to take his place at the Gryffindor table. The ceremony continued.

Several minutes later, Severus Snape joined the Slytherin table, his expression sour and his shoulders slumped. He sat as much apart from the other first years as the older students would allow and Harry wondered whether Severus had even had someone to talk to his first few nights at Hogwarts…

The scene dissolved and reformed to show Lily and Severus standing in front of Professor Dumbledore's desk next to a very wet and bedraggled James Potter and Sirius Black. Their heads were bowed guiltily and Lily had tears in her eyes. Professor McGonagall and an unknown wizard clad in the green and silver robes of Slytherin House stood on either side of the headmaster's chair.

"Mr Snape and Miss Evans," Professor McGonagall said, her voice **rising as she spoke****,** "I cannot believe the two of you are the masterminds of this heinous trick. **Antagonizing the giant squid****… angering it to the point that it grabbed other students****…** that is untenable! At the very least, I demand you apologize to Mr Potter and Mr Black." She turned to address the headmaster. "Professor Dumbledore, Professor Slughorn and I do not condone such behaviour, especially since it involves the members of our respective houses. I leave the punishment of these two," she pointed at Lily and Severus, "in your hands. I am through disciplining these four for their retaliatory pranks, as is Professor Slughorn. Once you have assigned their tasks, we will be writing letters to their parents advising them of what has happened."

"Very well, Professor McGonagall," Professor Dumbledore said gravely. He looked at the four first years. "As of this moment you are on probation until the beginning of the Spring Term. Letters advising your parents of the situation will be sent out tonight." Lily gasped and began to sob. Severus glared stonily at the Professor while James and Sirius tried hard not to look too smug until they realized that they were to suffer the same consequences as the other two. The Headmaster continued, looking at each student as he named them, "Miss Evans, Mr Snape, Mr Potter, Mr Black, I cannot risk having my other students injured by the pranks you set for each other. You must understand that. There is enough animosity between the Houses of Slytherin and Gryffindor and what you have done this afternoon is not acceptable here at Hogwarts. If the four of you continue to prank each other and your other classmates, you will be asked to leave this school. Have I made myself clear?"

The four students nodded woodenly.

"Then you are dismissed." Severus, Lily, James and Sirius solemnly exited the office and the memory ended.

The Great Hall appeared next; it was decorated for a Valentine's Ball. Professor Dumbledore was watching a crowd of older students dancing in the middle of the room to the music of a live band. Something caught his attention and Harry looked to see what it was. A pair of fourth years, the girl dressed in the finest of dress robes while the boy's were old and ill-fitting, stood the edge of the crowd, looking as if they were trying to ignore a group of three boys who were obviously teasing them. Professor Dumbledore sidled closer to catch their verbal exchange and Harry's eyebrows shot into his fringe.

Lily Evans and Severus Snape were facing off with James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, who, by the look of it, had abandoned their dates to heckle the Gryffindor/Slytherin couple.

Harry heard James ask, "Lily, how can you even think of attending this Ball with a git like _him_? He's obviously too poor to dress properly."

Lily's face was stormy as she answered, "Severus is my friend, which is more than I can say about you!" She glanced at Snape as she said, "I don't care how he's dressed; it's how he treats me that counts. And you certainly don't know how to treat your date!" She pointed to a girl sitting several tables away who was crying into a handkerchief.

"I can't help it if she wants to dance and I don't," James retorted defensively.

Sirius jumped in. "How does this toe rag treat you, Lily? I'd like to know."

Lily squeezed Snape's hand. He smiled back at her. "He treats me like a gentleman should," she said haughtily. "He has manners and knows how to show me a good time." Harry watched as Snape's pale face darkened with embarrassment.

This made the three Gryffindor boys chortle and James elbowed Sirius in the ribs. "I can show her a good time, much better than this Slytherin twit can. Can't I, Sirius?" he asked.

Snape drew his wand.

Harry never heard Sirius' reply because at that moment, Professor Dumbledore stepped in and suggested the five either go back to dancing or return to their common rooms. Lily pulled Severus onto the dance floor and the other three boys quickly left the Great Hall.

This memory was followed by several short scenes showing the demise of Lily and Severus' friendship. In one, he used Dark Magic on Lily when his spell, meant for James Potter, hit her and sent her running for the hospital wing with Snape hot on her heals, yelling apologies. In another, very familiar scene that Professor Dumbledore witnessed from the window of his office, James Potter cast a spell that hoisted the Slytherin into the air in front of Lily Evans and her friends. As the scene below played out, the other girls surrounded their ginger-haired friend and led her back into the castle. James eventually dropped Severus on his head and followed the girls, leaving the Slytherin lying where he fell. The last of these memories was of an argument Dumbledore overheard between Lily and Severus as she patently refused to accept his apologies for calling her a Mudblood earlier in the day.

"I'm through making excuses for you, Severus," Lily exclaimed, her voice rising with every word. "I gave you a choice the last time this happened and you seem to have conveniently forgotten your promise. I can't be friends with someone who is as prejudiced as you!"

With that, she stomped away and Snape sank down on the plinth of the nearest statue with his head in his hands. Dumbledore went back to his office, shaking his head sadly. Miss Evans was a good influence on Mr Snape, but lately he'd made a few less-than-stellar choices and it looked as if their inter-house friendship had fallen apart for good.

The next memory showed the adult Severus Snape standing in a corner of the empty Hog's Head bar. He was begging Professor Dumbledore to do something. Harry stepped closer.

"Severus, why should I believe you?" the headmaster was asking. "You've just confessed to telling your master the entire contents of the Prophecy. I appreciate your honesty, but why come to me when the damage has been done?"

Snape hung his head. "The Dark Lord will be going after Lily Potter," he choked. "He knows it's her son who must be eliminated; he wishes to minimize the threat against his life." He hesitated, finally looking up at the Hogwarts headmaster. "I implore you to protect her."

"I already have," Dumbledore snapped. "And her husband and son as well."

Snape looked relieved. "Thank you," he breathed. Then, he asked, "Will you protect me, too?"

"What?" Dumbledore's eyes widened. His tone was acidic as he replied, "Why should I do anything for you when all you've done is heap heartbreak and tragedy upon Lily and James Potter? Yes, I know you were in the raiding parties who killed Robert and Marigold Evans and James and Henrietta Potter. You can't deny it. There were witnesses who saw your hood fall off during the fighting at both estates. And it was _you_ who cast the Dark Mark over the Evans' home in London!"

Snape crumpled to the floor as Harry gaped, completely stunned by what he was hearing and seeing. _Snape helped murder my grandparents?_ he asked himself in disbelief. _No wonder Aunt Petunia resents wizards so much. She actually has a reason to hate them… to hate… me…_

"I admit to everything!" Snape sobbed. "I know I can't take back my actions, but I want to repent. I want to help save Lily! I love her! I've loved her since we were children."

Dumbledore drew himself up to his full height. "Is Lily Potter the only one whom you wish to save?" he thundered, causing Snape to look up, his face deathly pale. "Do you not wish to save her husband and son?"

Snape turned bleak eyes on the headmaster. "I suppose not, sir."

"Do you mean to tell me that you think they are _**expendable?**_" Dumbledore's contempt was palpable.

"No! No, I'm not saying that at all," Snape back-peddled desperately. "I – I just never thought about it… Wh-What the consequences would be."

"Well you had better do some quick thinking about what you're asking me to do for you," Dumbledore spat out. "It sounds to me as if you're just trying to save your own skin and not that of Lily Potter and her family."

Tense silence spread between the two during which Dumbledore pulled out his watch and consulted it. Finally, sounding desperate, Snape said, "I'll do anything you ask, Headmaster. Anything to help save Lily and her family."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and then stared into Severus Snape's eyes for a few moments. Breaking the contact, Dumbledore said, "Very well. In return for information about Lord Voldemort's activities, I will provide you with protection. Professor Slughorn wishes to retire as Potions Master at the end of this term. You will be hired as his replacement and will live at the castle. Are these terms agreeable?"

Snape nodded.

"Then, so be it." Dumbledore turned on his heal, waved his wand at the patrons who were now sitting at the bar and walked out the door. Harry followed him into another memory, his mind reeling with the implications of what he had learned.

They entered Dumbledore's office. Outside, a storm raged and within the circular room a keening sound filled the night.

"They're gone! _She's_ _gone_! " the voice cried in unmistakable anguish.

"Apparently, you were misinformed!" Dumbledore exclaimed acerbically.

"All my information to date has been correct!" Snape cried, jumping up from his chair to face the headmaster. "Where did I go wrong? Lily's GONE, Professor! GONE!" He crumpled onto the chair again, his head in his hands.

Dumbledore walked behind his desk and sat down in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "You did everything correctly, Severus," he said. "However, just as you have come to understand that you put your fate in the wrong hands, James and Lily seem to have done the same. The one they trusted most to keep them safe, to keep the knowledge of their whereabouts protected from Lord Voldemort has betrayed them and they have been killed.

"However, their son, Harry, lives." Dumbledore's bright blue eyes bored into Professor Snape's black ones. Neither wizard flinched until Dumbledore broke the contact. Then, he asked, "Do I have your promise, Severus, that if I continue to employ you and keep you out of Azkaban, you will do all in your power to help me keep Lily's son alive, and do whatever it takes to protect him from those who wish him harm, especially when he is old enough to come to Hogwarts?"

Snape looked up at Dumbledore with puffy, red eyes. A tear rolled down his cheek as he choked, "I promise, Professor." He paused and then added, "Lily, I promise, with everything that I am, that I will help Professor Dumbledore keep your son alive and safe from the Dark Lord."

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said kindly. He pointed his wand at a cabinet and Summoned a crystal decanter of Firewhisky and two glasses. He poured a measure into each glass and passed one across the desk to Professor Snape. They held their glasses aloft as Dumbledore made a toast. "In memory of James and Lily Potter…"

As the memory faded, Harry hugged himself, breathing hard. He couldn't understand why Dumbledore thought it necessary for him to know his mother's history with Professor Snape. There had to be a very good reason, but at the moment it wasn't very obvious. A sudden thought startled Harry. _If things had been different, Professor Snape could have been my father! He loved my mother… he still loves her! He's been "protecting" me because he promised her he would!_ He thought of all the cynical, abusive remarks the Potions Master had made to him over the years. _A nice way to show it,_ he thought bitterly.

_**To be continued…**_

**A/N:** To my dear readers, thank you for your patient waiting these last few weeks. I sent the chapter to Aggiebell several weeks before Christmas, but due to the holidays and some computer problems, I had to wait just as patiently as all of you. Aggiebell, I'm thankful that you're up and running again. Your comments are always encouraging. I also need to thank my pre-betas, jedi34 and GhostWriter who always offer the best advice for saying things the way I want them expressed. A final thank you goes to all my faithful reviewers. I love reading your comments and appreciate the time you take to write them. I look forward to what you have to say about this chapter.


	27. 27 The Battle Begins

**Chapter 27: The Battle Begins**

Professor Dumbledore's memories continued. In the next one, he was standing near the Hogwarts gates. Harry hung back, observing the scene with interest. It was night time and the headmaster was pacing to and fro, occasionally glancing at the sky, as if impatiently waiting for someone.

Suddenly, the roar of a gigantic motor rent the air making the professor look up. A huge motor-bike was careening through the sky and astride it was none other than his messenger, Rubeus Hagrid. The bike came to a thundering stop in front of the gates and Hagrid switched it off. He swung his leg over the seat, carefully cradling a tiny bundle close to his chest as he walked over to the gates. Professor Dumbledore let him in.

Hagrid's voice shattered the stillness of the early morning as he said, "Here he is, Professor. I got 'im out, just like you said. Poor little tyke was trapped in 'is cot—" Hagrid broke off, unable to contain his sobs. Dumbledore lifted the bundle from his hands as Hagrid fumbled for a handkerchief. "'is mum, Lily, was still lying where she fell..." The big man broke down completely.

"I am sorry to make you do this, Hagrid," Dumbledore said, sadness evident in his voice. "Please come up to the castle with us."

Hagrid looked back at the motor-bike. "Can I..."

"Oh, of course. You're right not to leave it beyond the gates," Dumbledore said, using his wand to unlock the gates again.

Hagrid quickly retrieved the bike and hid it in the bushes next to the gates. A moment later, they set out for the castle doors...

The memory faded and reformed, showing Dumbledore's office. The first streaks of new dawn light could be seen through the window. Hagrid was slumped, sniffling into his huge handkerchief, in one of the chairs in front of the headmaster's desk. Next to him, sound asleep in a conjured carry-cot and swathed in a fuzzy blue blanket, lay a small, black-haired toddler. The little boy's face was just visible and Harry could see dried blood on his forehead. Automatically, Harry reached up and touched his lightning bolt scar.

A movement at the desk distracted Harry from watching his small self and he looked over to see what was going on. He was not surprised to see that the top of Professor Dumbledore's normally neat desk was covered in the little silver instruments he was accustomed to seeing spread about the office. The headmaster was hunched over one of them, twiddling the dials and lightly tapping it with his wand. Finally satisfied, he walked around the desk and approached the carry-cot.

Hagrid stopped sniffling and watched Dumbledore with a look of growing suspicion. "You're no' going ter hurt 'im, are you?" he asked.

Professor Dumbledore smiled reassuringly. "No, Hagrid. I promise not hurt him. I only need three blood samples and the dried blood on his face will do nicely, since the sample need not be liquid," he said, lifting his wand and pointing it at little Harry's face. Harry watched in fascination as Dumbledore's spell acted as a magnet that attracted the dried blood and left the toddler's face pristine.

Hagrid let out a sigh as little Harry continued to sleep peacefully.

Dumbledore held a hand under his wand tip as he walked back to his desk, then reached for a three tiny glass dishes. Into each of these, he deposited a portion of the blood sample. When he was done, he carefully placed each of the dishes in a different silver instrument, tapped them with his wand and waited. Harry waited, too.

Soon, one of the instruments began to whistle loudly and emit puffs of smoke. The shrill sound woke little Harry. He began to cry and Hagrid picked him up as Dumbledore stared at the smoke now pouring from the instrument. As the other two began to react, the headmaster grabbed a quill and some parchment from a drawer and began taking notes. A moment later, the instruments quieted and the only sound left in the office was the little boy's sniffles as he snuggled up to Hagrid.

"Hmm. Just as I thought," Dumbledore mumbled, consulting his notes. His face was grave and he sighed as he cleared the desk of all except one of the little silver instruments. This he drew towards him and tapped with his wand. It tinkled to life with rhythmic clinking sounds and soon tiny puffs of green smoke began belching from a minuscule smokestack on its top. Dumbledore continued to watch closely as the wispy smoke thickened and began coiling in the air. A moment later, a snake's head emerged from the end of the tendril and opened its mouth.

"Ah, yes, just as I thought," the headmaster murmured. He addressed the instrument as he asked, "But in essence divided?"

The words jogged something in Harry's memory and he realized this was the same question Dumbledore had asked the little instrument fourteen years later after Mr Weasley had been injured by Nagini. He watched in fascination as the smoke divided and became two undulating snakes and the look on Dumbledore's face became one of bleak satisfaction.

"Very well, what is done is done," Dumbledore said, tapping the instrument which became quiet and watching the two little smoke snakes dissipate into nothing. He rose from his chair and carefully carried it back to its place on one of his tables. He returned to his desk and addressed Hagrid.

"Hagrid, my friend, I have two more tasks to ask of you. The first is to see that young Harry here is properly taken care of for the rest of the day. I suggest you take our little friend down to the kitchens and when he wakes, ask the house-elves to prepare something appropriate for him to eat, enough for three separate meals. After that, Harry might enjoy playing with some of your tamer magical creatures or going for a flight on one of the older brooms around the Quidditch pitch. James told me on several occasions that Harry loves to fly. Later this afternoon, he will most likely need another nap.

"The second task I require of you is that you bring Harry to me when I summon you. I must make some arrangements for his care because he cannot live here at the castle. Can you do these things for me, Hagrid?" he asked.

Hagrid sat up straighter and nodded, a small smile lifting his moustache. "Yes, Prefessor. I'll see ya later tonigh'," he said and stood to leave.

As Professor Dumbledore walked Hagrid and Harry to the door, the memory faded and another took its place.

Harry and Professor Dumbledore were still in the office, but the headmaster was now standing at the window, thoughtfully stroking his chin through his long beard. Below him, Hagrid was chasing little Harry around the Quidditch pitch as the toddler zoomed about on a borrowed school broom. "Oh Harry," he sighed. "I truly wish circumstances had turned out differently. I tried so hard to protect you and your parents, but now they are gone and I must put you somewhere I do not want you to go. Petunia is certain to put up a fuss as will her husband, but it is the only way to keep you safe... I only hope that someday you will understand why I have done what I have done..."

The scene changed rapidly and Harry now found himself in Severus Snape's office, standing behind and slightly to the left of Professor Dumbledore as he confronted Professor Snape. The Potions Master was preparing ingredients, most likely for the next day's lessons, and only giving the headmaster part of his attention.

"You ignored my summons this afternoon, Severus," Dumbledore said. His tone was mild, but Harry could hear the censure in his voice. "Why did you not come to my office as requested?"

Snape looked up from his task, a large jar of newt eyes in his hand. "I was detained, sir," he said, avoiding Dumbledore's eyes.

Dumbledore scowled. "I highly doubt that, Severus. The unscheduled meeting concerned Harry Potter and his assimilation into this school and the Wizarding world at large. All his other teachers showed up. Why didn't you?"

Snape scowled. "I was detained," he repeated. "Neville Longbottom's cauldron exploded and I had to oversee the clean-up of my classroom."

"Ah, yes. I heard about that little mishap from two of the other teachers at the meeting," Dumbledore said. "From their reports, it seems you goaded Mr Longbottom into making the mistake that caused the explosion and took points from Harry Potter when he tried to help Mr Longbottom prevent that mistake."

"Harry Potter is a busy-body know-it-all!" Snape barked. "He's worse than that Hermione Granger twit he sits with!"

"What do you mean, Severus?" Dumbledore's moustache twitched slightly and Harry wondered if the headmaster was enjoying the conversation.

"Harry Potter is a self-centred, arrogant little boy, who has no talent whatsoever at potion-making and thinks nothing of getting other students into trouble when he makes erroneous suggestions to them in class," the Potions Master said heatedly.

"I see," Dumbledore commented. "However, I beg to differ with you. I was under the impression that both Miss Granger and Mr Potter were trying to help Mr Longbottom correct a previous mistake in today's potion."

Snape harrumphed, but didn't otherwise comment.

Dumbledore went on. "Mr Potter's other teachers report that he is a friendly, helpful child who seems to care about his fellow classmates. They say he has great talent and that his eagerness to learn encourages those around him to do their best." He paused as if to emphasize his next point. "Since you see such negativity in Mr Potter, might you be thinking instead of his father?"

"Of... of J-James?" Snape sputtered. "Why ever would I do that?"

Dumbledore took his time in answering. "Perhaps you continue to resent the fact that James Potter became Lily Evans' champion when you still think it should have been you... even after all these years?"

Snape seemed to wilt before the headmaster's scrutiny. "That—that may be case, headmaster," he admitted, looking down at the table.

The two were silent for a moment. Then, Dumbledore said, "I suggest you try very hard not to prejudge Lily and James' son. He is more like his mother than his father in temperament and I think that if you give him a chance, you will find him a delightfully engaging child." Snape nodded as Dumbledore continued. "I also suggest that you remember your promise to do all in your power to make sure Harry Potter's life is protected. Remember your promise to Lily..."

With that, Dumbledore turned on his heel, leaving a very unsettled-looking Potions Master in his wake. The door to Professor Snape's office opened of its own accord to let the headmaster pass through and Harry followed him into another memory.

An older, very tired-looking Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, looking at the same little instrument Harry had seen in a previous memory. The instrument was inactive and Dumbledore was absently tracing its features with a trembling finger.

"Dear Harry, the time you must know approaches," he said resignedly, "but how do I tell you that for the past fourteen years you have carried a piece of Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort, inside you? How do I help you understand that when he cast the Killing Curse on you the spell backfired because the love from your mother's sacrifice shielded you and his unstable soul split once again? What must you know to understand that Voldemort has made you a Horcrux? _When_ do I tell you?"

Dumbledore continued to stare at the silver instrument for several more minutes, then rose and left his office, dissolving the memory. When the next one took its place, it was still night time, but the headmaster was no longer alone; Severus Snape stood before the fireplace, his face uncharacteristically bewildered-looking.

"I don't understand, Headmaster..." the Potions professor hissed.

Dumbledore came to stand in front of him. "Severus, there may come a time when Voldemort feels the need to capture Harry."

Understanding began to straighten out Snape's features. "I see..." he said at length.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Do you? Then, you'll also understand how crucial it is that Harry is kept alive. Voldemort must NOT kill him... not until the time is right."

Harry's breath caught in his throat. Dumbledore had known Voldemort was going to try to capture him? He actually made _plans_ with Snape? His body began shaking as white-hot anger towards Dumbledore began surging through Harry. _Why didn't he prepare me?_ he asked himself. _We talked about so many other things, why not a possible kidnapping?_ Shaking his head, he listened with renewed interest as the two professors discussed his fate.

Snape, suddenly on full alert, demanded, "What do you mean?"

Dumbledore was clearly agitated as he said, "Harry must live, that's all there is to it. Because of the Prophecy no one else has been able to touch Voldemort."

"Indeed, that is the case, headmaster," Snape said quietly.

Dumbledore continued, ignoring the interruption. "You must therefore entreat Lord Voldemort to keep Harry alive because no one else has been able to touch your dark lord. You must beseech your master to keep Harry alive, because to kill Harry would be to enflame the masses. By killing Harry, Voldemort would just encourage those he is trying to dominate to rise against him. There would be more magical blood spilt than necessary... and I sense that Voldemort does not wish to spill magical blood."

Snape seemed to agree. "No, he doesn't. He knows the value of pure, magical blood and, ironically enough, has no desire to spill any more than he has to." He stepped away from the fireplace, his right hand resting on his left forearm. "I must go." At the door, he turned and said, "I will do my best, sir."

The white moustache twitched as he said, "You always do. Please be careful, Severus."

Snape left the office without glancing back, leaving Harry to stare after him. _So that's why the Death Eaters never took me to meet Voldemort!_ he marvelled, now a little calmer than when the subject first came up. It was all becoming clearer as the pieces to the complex puzzle began falling into place.

The scene changed abruptly, startling Harry a little when he found himself not at Hogwarts, but in Dumbledore's library at Gwenyn. It was night and Dumbledore sat in one of the wing chairs facing a fire in the huge fireplace; a snifter of amber liquid dangled from his hand. Harry looked around the room. The desk was littered with papers, as was the long library table. Curious, Harry walked over to read the spines of the books that were stacked haphazardly at one end of the table. They were all books on Wizarding history. One book had been set aside from the others with several bookmarks sticking out of it. Harry recognized it as the book Dumbledore had given him on his birthday.

Harry jumped when the headmaster spoke from the depths of his chair. "Ah, Harry... my dear, dear boy." Dumbledore sounded weary and sad. "You have no idea how much I am looking forward to our little adventure here tomorrow and how I dread it at the same time. I fear it will be the last time I leave Hogwarts castle on my own, but I want this time with you, one last day of happiness shared with someone I have grown to love as my own.

"You are the grandson of my dreams, the one who should rightly inherit this estate. My brother, Aberforth, has hated the place for nearly ninety years and wants absolutely nothing to do with it largely because of all the family members we lost at the beginning of the century. I know you would be happy here, Harry, just as I have been, and I sincerely hope that Aberforth will allow you access to this library. It holds information on your ancestors as well as many useful tomes which may aid you in the fight against Voldemort."

He raised the glass. Half the liquid was gone when it appeared again. A long sigh escaped Dumbledore before he continued.

"But I digress and beg your pardon for the ramblings of an old wizard at the end of his life. The fact that you are a living Horcrux bothers me greatly. I am sincerely sorry I have not given you this information sooner, but because of the events of the last year, I decided you had much too much in your life to be going on with. I hope you can forgive me for wanting to keep you as happy as I possibly could, for as long as I could."

The snifter disappeared behind the chair once more. When it reappeared again, it was empty and Dumbledore was floating it to the mantle where it landed between two photographs.

"Alas, I grow weaker by the day, Harry. Soon I'll be bedridden and unfit to lead the school or be of any use to you. I am convinced that you are ready to face Voldemort whether you think you are or not; with your training and the support of your friends, I am confident that you will enter your last encounter with Voldemort with your head held high, secure in the knowledge that you are ready both mentally and physically." Dumbledore paused, a sad sigh escaping him. "I cannot emphasise enough that you are surrounded by love in its infinite forms; call upon the power of that love to support you when you need it most, your final walk towards death. It will be there when you must sacrifice yourself in order to finish Voldemort. He does not understand love's power, as I have tried to emphasise each time we discussed the subject, but you do; use it well, my friend, use it well."

Dumbledore Summoned one of the photographs from the mantelpiece. Curious, Harry took a few steps closer to see which one it was. He gasped when he saw that it was the picture of himself on his Firebolt, his arm outstretched towards the Snitch, a picture most likely taken by Colin Creevey. He was even more astonished when a single tear dripped onto the glass covering the photo; he had never seen his headmaster so emotional.

"My work here in Godric's Hollow is nearly done. Good-bye until tomorrow, Harry. Take care and remember that I love you..."

Professor Dumbledore rose ponderously from his chair and approached the library table. He picked up a roll of parchment and the book as the memory faded. Harry felt himself rising out of the Pensieve and a moment later his feet touched the ground. His knees buckled and he crumpled in a heap beside the Pensieve, too weak and upset to move.

_I must die._

Harry lay on the cold stone floor for several minutes, his mind reeling. His nightmares had just been confirmed: He was a human Horcrux. He now knew what he would have to do to rid the world of Lord Voldemort for good; he would have to meekly, _willingly_, turn himself over to Voldemort or die defending his friends. Either way, he knew he must sacrifice his own life so that others might live in peace.

_I must die._

He wished he had more time, but unfortunately, time was running out. If the contents of Dumbledore's letter were true, he had very little time left to destroy the two remaining Horcruxes before the Death Eaters descended upon the graveyard. He also had no time to properly say good-bye to Ron, Hermione and especially Ginny, something he deeply regretted.

_Good-bye, Ginny. _A single tear escaped his eye and he brushed it away before it could freeze to his face.

Hermione's head suddenly appeared at the gate. "Harry, someone's coming!" she hissed.

Startled, Harry pushed himself onto his elbows, then picked up his wand and opened the gate. He tried to keep his voice steady as he said quietly, "Get Ron and get in here as fast as you can. I need your help."

Several seconds later, Hermione scurried in, towing Ron by the hand. Harry shut the gate and locked it magically.

"Harry, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost," Ron commented as Hermione spied the Pensieve and asked, "What's that for?"

"Dumbledore's memories," Harry told them evasively. "Something more I needed to know for the upcoming battle."

Ron looked stunned. "What the bloody hell does that mean, Harry?" he demanded.

"It means, Ronald, that Harry has probably just viewed Dumbledore's last instructions and the Death Eaters and Voldemort are most likely on their way," Hermione said testily as Ron blanched. She turned to Harry. "What do you want us to do?"

"Destroy the locket and the cup. I don't have the strength to do it at the moment," Harry confessed. He pushed the sword towards Ron who picked it up and stood hefting it in his hands. Harry looked at his friends impatiently. "Well, go on. Choose one and get it over with," he said impatiently.

Hermione used the toe of her shoe to move the locket across the floor as Harry pushed himself upright and leaned against the back wall of the crypt. She fished inside her bum bag and pulled out one of the Basilisk fangs they had collected in July. "I might as well use this," she said, and knelt down beside the locket. "Here goes…" she said, biting her lower lip. She took aim and plunged the giant tooth into the centre of the ornate S that adorned the front of the locket. There was a flash of light, a high-pitched, lingering wail and suddenly the locket burst open revealing a pair of enormous, ruined eyes that seemed to wither away as the sound dissipated. Hermione looked up, a small smile gracing her lips. "That's one," she said, looking at Ron.

Ron gulped. Harry knew what his friend was feeling, he had felt the same way the night they had destroyed Ravenclaw's wand: No matter the reason, a revered piece of wizarding history was about to be destroyed forever and the responsibility for it would be on Ron's shoulders. Harry didn't envy his friend even though he understood the guilt Ron would have to cope with over the next day or two.

Ron finally bent down to pick up Hufflepuff's cup, but Harry never saw him grasp it; his scar began to throb again and he was immediately transported back into Voldemort's head. The room he was sitting in was darkly familiar; the air of neglect and abandonment darkly satisfying, yet truly disturbing. Someone had been here... Someone had broken the protective spells... Someone had taken the hidden Horcrux! The fire in the grate crackled and cast flickering shadows on the dingy walls, the light fuelling his hatred for a dead man and his enemy...

_They've destroyed another Horcrux!_ he fumed , a feeling of panic welling up inside him. _I don't have many left! _Mentally, he took stock of the remaining Horcruxes. _The diary and Salazar Slytherin's ring are gone, Nagini is dead and now they have most likely destroyed either my mother's locket or Hufflepuff's cup, leaving me with only one other Horcrux sealed safely in Ravenclaw's wand._

The inventory and the fact that there was still one, possibly two, Horcruxes left calmed him. He was still safe from Death, he would still live if someone made an attempt on his life. He was still immortal.

Still, rage at Harry Potter and his friends for what they were doing to him consumed him. "I WILL GET YOU FOR THIS, HARRY POTTER!" he screamed, and going to the window nearest the fireplace, he opened it and jumped out into the early morning light. The spell he cast simultaneously took effect and, as great wings sprouted from his shoulders, he powered his way to the heavens like a great black bird. Voldemort headed north and as the earth fell away, Harry returned to his own body which was, once again, sprawled on the floor of the Potter Family crypt.

It was a moment before Harry gathered his strength and started to stand up. The movement caught Ron's attention and he put a steadying hand on Harry's shoulder.

"No, Harry, sit down. I know you've been channelling Voldemort, so just stay still and gather your strength. I don't need help," Ron ordered. Harry gratefully did as he was told.

Ron gripped the sword in both hands. Harry reached over and pushed the cup a little closer to his friend. Ron's eyes flickered in his direction and the two exchanged a quick nod. Then, with a mighty yell that would most likely be heard down in the village, Ron raised the sword and plunged it straight down into the bowl of the cup.

As Harry watched the sword pierce the cup, unbearable pain and fury overwhelmed him. He was no longer in the crypt in Godric's Hollow, but hurtling down a stone passageway towards a cell that had once held Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore, clutching at his chest against the pain in his soul as he went. Had the two found the locket while they were imprisoned here? He certainly hoped not. How stupid of Lucius Malfoy to house them in that cell! Malfoy would pay for his incompetence if the locket was missing... the Cruciatus Curse was definitely not good enough for him!

He reached his destination and stood before the door. He tested it and found it locked. He didn't need this delay. He must locate that Horcrux! In the effort to extract his wand from its special pocket, he tore at his robes and finally freeing it, he blasted his way into the cell. His foot touched something and, looking down, he noted that a couple of empty food bowls and a water pitcher still sat next to the door. They were the only evidence that someone had live here for nearly three months.

He crossed the room and cast a revealing charm upon the ceiling. A circle of pale pink light revealed the outline of the hiding place where he had stowed his precious locket, one with Slytherin's family crest on it. A moment later, he reached into the space created by the removal of a circlet of stone and felt all the way to the back of the space. The only thing he drew out was an old piece of mildew-spotted parchment. He gaped in surprise and fury as he read what was written upon it.

_5 January 1980_

_My Lord,_

_I have learned a secret about you too terrible to bear. I know you have made at least one other Horcrux in your quest for immortality and have taken the one hidden here, intending to destroy it as soon as I am able. I sincerely hope that once the locket is no longer a Horcrux, you will be unable to cling to life, should you meet the one destined to kill you. I leave this parchment knowing full well that there is every possibility I will be long dead when you finally read this missive. I welcome death as the next great adventure..._

_Your humble servant,_

_R.A. Black_

The parchment fell from his fingers and he screamed with rage and pain, the sound filling the small enclosure and echoing along the passageway to the main rooms of the cave.

_They've destroyed the locket and cup! But I will not be hunted down like an animal or one of my Horcruxes. I must fight, we must fight, to punish those who have destroyed my immortality! I must alert my followers... for WE ARE AT WAR! _ And drawing back the sleeve of his robe, he pointed a long white finger at his Dark Mark and pressed it, calling his Death Eaters to his side.

The flash of light nearly blinded them, bringing Harry back to his own mind inside the crypt. He threw his arm over his eyes as the cup shattered with a soul-rending scream. Before it was over, he became aware of someone yelling through the gate, "Harry, let me in! There are Death Eaters in the village!"

Harry leapt to his feet. "Don't touch that gate!" he yelled at her.

She sprang away as Ron demanded, "Ginny, what are you doing here?"

Harry cancelled his spells and let Ginny into the crypt, then sealed the gate again.

She didn't answer right away and Harry could see her eyes roaming the floor of the crypt, taking in the broken pieces of Hufflepuff's cup, the Pensieve, Nagini's headless body, and the other Horcruxes that littered the floor. Finally she pointed to the mess. "What's all this?" she asked. "Who screamed?"

"We don't have time to go into it now," he said shortly, "but this is the reason the Death Eaters are in the village." Her eyes widened as he asked again, "Why are you here?"

Nervously twisting her wand between her fingers she replied, "I spied on you last week when the three of you closeted yourselves in Ron's room. I knew you were planning something and decided I wasn't going to be left behind this time. Five minutes after you left this morning I Apparated to Gwenyn and followed you here. I've been lurking in the church ever since."

Harry's shoulders slumped as he said, "Your mum's going to kill me for luring you out here, do you know that? I didn't want you involved and neither would she!"

Ginny turned on him. "Well, it's a little late for that, Harry. I'm here and I'm going to help you fight. You're just going to have to accept that," she said, poking a finger in his chest. "I'm going to keep you as safe as I possibly can."

"How are you going to do that?" Hermione demanded, joining the verbal fray.

"I've already used my coin and sent messages to every DA and Order member I could think of. I told them to bring anyone who was willing to fight to the graveyard. They should be here in a matter of minutes. They might even beat the Death Eaters and Voldemort if they come quickly enough," she stated, a no-nonsense demeanour settling into her voice. When Harry raised an eyebrow she continued, "Every non-Slytherin student at Hogwarts has been rallying around you and Dumbledore since the beginning of term, Harry. Neville, Luna, Ron, Hermione and I reformed the DA to get us ready for what we hoped would be the battle to end Voldemort's reign of terror."

Harry sighed but said nothing as Ginny continued her explanation.

"You have no idea what Hogwarts has been like the last few months. Mum doesn't know half of what's been going on there this term because we haven't told her. What little information we have given her she has kept to a minimum to allow you to heal and get ready for the battle. Now, by the look of things here," she raised a hand and swept it in an arch that took in Nagini's corpse, the destroyed Horcruxes and Harry's Pensieve, "you've just completed the tasks that are going to trigger the biggest battle since the last war." She stopped talking. Footsteps could be heard coming up the hill. She skewered Harry with her eyes as she asked, "Are you ready for this?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "Yeah, Ginny, I am," he said tightly.

She smiled rigidly and stooped to gather the Horcruxes from the floor. "Good. Let's keep these to show old Snake-face just how mortal he really is," she said, depositing the locket in the cloth bag.

Ron and Hermione gaped at her. "What did you just say?" Ron finally asked.

Ginny repeated her statement, causing Ron to smile and shake his head. "Well, then, let's do it," he said and joined her in picking up the pieces of Hufflepuff's cup that littered the floor.

Harry bent down to pack up the Pensieve. As he held up the vial to put Dumbledore's memories back inside it, Ginny's fingers closed around his wrist, making him jump. He looked up at her with frightened eyes.

"You're one of them, aren't you?" she whispered, indicating the last little pieces of the cup and Nagini's corpse that Hermione was magicking into Muggle plastic bags.

Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat as he nodded. A great lump was suddenly constricting his throat and he could hardly breathe, let alone admit the terrible truth to her.

Ginny leaned closer. "I thought so. I've suspected something like that was going to surface one of these days," she said. Her eyes were sad for a moment; then they blazed determinedly. "Do what you have to do to get rid of the git," she said, placing a hand gently on his cheek, "even if it means sacrificing yourself." She kissed his other cheek tenderly. "But remember this, Harry James Potter... I love you with everything I am and I know you're going to come out the winner in the end."

Stunned beyond words, Harry let her pull him into a fierce embrace worthy of her mother. They clung together for a moment and then Ginny pushed herself away.

Harry grabbed her hand as it left his body. "I—I wasn't going to say this, but it needs to be done... just in case..." he whispered. He trembled as he added, "Good-bye, Ginny. I love you, too."

Ginny gasped and turned away as Harry siphoned the memories from the Pensieve and stoppered the vial. In the very back of his mind he found himself hoping that there would be time someday soon to view them again. He glanced up to see Hermione dropping Ravenclaw's wand and Slytherin's ring into the cloth bag and eyeing him and Ginny suspiciously. Ron added the snake's head just as the first salvo of spells hit the walls of the crypt.

**End of Chapter 27**

**A/N:** The reference to the last silver instrument that Dumbledore uses in the memory comes from Chapter 22: St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. _Also, many of the memory ideas I came up with for this chapter can be found in Chapter 28: Snape's Worst Memory from the same book and Chapter 33: The Prince's Tale from _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows._

From the reactions of each of my betas, I seriously debated putting a Tissue Warning on this chapter. (A Tissue Warning is something The Seeker—who is a friend of mine—came up with to warn his readers of how powerfully emotional his chapters were in his story _Seeking Harry_. For example, a happy chapter warranted no tissues at all, but a chapter that was guaranteed to make readers dive for the tissue box was awarded up to as many as five tissues.) This was the chapter where I explored all my theories and assumptions about Dumbledore's relationship with Harry and as I was writing some of them I tried hard to stay within current canon while making each memory conform to the ideas I had previously come up with. I sincerely hope you will tell me how you feel about this chapter.

One final note... my sincere thanks go to Jedi34, GhostWriter and Aggiebell for their comments and suggestions which made this chapter what it is. I couldn't have done it without you.


	28. 28 Surprises

**Chapter 28: Surprises**

Everyone froze as more spells hit the outside of the crypt and the walls trembled. Ginny, who had turned away from Harry, turned back around, and in a strangled voice, whispered, "They're here!"

Harry was at her side in an instant. He wrapped his arms around her and over his shoulder she could see Ron doing the same for Hermione. All four of them were listening hard. Angry voices reached them through the door. From what she could hear, the parson and some of the villagers were trying to prevent the Death Eaters from entering the cemetery. Phrases like, "you have no right to desecrate a holy place" and "no one matching that description is here" and "please leave at once" were overridden by demands to be let in on the pain of torture and the flattening of the headstones.

Finally, she turned her attention back to Harry as he murmured in her ear, "We'll get through this."

Pushing away from him, Ginny gazed into the green eyes she could never get enough of. "Yes, Harry," she said tremulously, gathering her courage, "we will." She paused, then asked, "You're sure the Death Eaters can't see the crypt?"

Harry nodded. "Nearly positive. Dumbledore told me that once he died, I was the Secret Keeper for it. Unless Professor Dumbledore told other people, you, Ron and Hermione are the only ones besides me who can see this crypt."

Ginny smiled, reassured. "Because you told us that day we came about Gwenyn."

Harry's answer was drowned out by a sudden, loud _crack!_ All four occupants of the crypt spun towards the sound, wands at the ready, to see Kreacher bowing, not at Harry, but at Hermione!

"Mistress Hermione," croaked the house-elf, "Kreacher is here. What may Kreacher do to serve my noble saviour?"

Hermione blinked, her eyebrows racing towards her hairline. Ron covered his mouth to keep from laughing and Ginny and Harry just stared in astonishment. At length, Hermione managed to ask, "Noble saviour? _Mistress_ Hermione?"

Kreacher looked affronted. "Yes, Mistress Hermione. How may I help? I sense you are in danger."

"Kreacher," Harry said, stepping forward, "explain why you are calling Hermione your 'saviour'?"

The elf swung around to look at him. "Mistress Hermione has delivered Kreacher from a terrible fate. She destroyed the bad locket that held Kreacher under its spell. Kreacher is indebted to Mistress Hermione for giving Kreacher back his freedom to be a good house-elf."

The four stared at each other above Kreacher's head. Eventually, Kreacher seemed to have enough of the gawking humans. "Master Harry, you still are Kreacher's master, but Kreacher will now help Mistress Hermione because of the help she gave Kreacher."

"How—" But Harry's question died on his lips as a spell flew through the opening over the top of the gate. It hit the back window, cracking it.

Kreacher glanced between the window and Harry as if making a decision. "Kreacher will help fight the bad wizards next to Mistress Hermione," he said gravely. He looked at Ron. "Mistress Hermione's friend can help me."

Ginny couldn't help it; she began to laugh. The others stared at her a moment, then Harry joined in. Seconds later, so did Ron and Hermione. Kreacher shook his head. Ron gasped, "Certainly, Kreacher. I'll be glad to help."

Another spell flew through the opening above the gate, making them all jump. Without having to say a word, everyone knew the Death Eaters had finally breached the fence surrounding the graveyard. Ron went down on his hands and knees, crawled over to the gate and looked out.

"From what I can see, the villagers are keeping the Death Eaters busy at the bottom of the hill," he reported, scrambling to his feet.

Hermione looked around. "What do you propose we do, Harry?" she asked. "We can't stay in here all day."

As Harry, Ron and Hermione began discussing their options, Ginny Disillusioned herself and stepped over to the window. She didn't like what she saw. Several Death Eaters had made it to the top of the hill from the back entrance of the graveyard and were now creeping towards the crypt.

_If only the window was open,_ Ginny thought wistfully, her wand hand itching to send Bat Bogies at the masked wizards.

A sudden cry, off to the right beyond the window, alerted Ginny that the graveyard was not just full of dark wizards, it also contained a large number of villagers who were bent on protecting the resting place of their dead. With a roar of, "You don't belong here, you scum!" the curses began to fly so thick and fast that Ginny drew away from the window, cancelling her spell as she joined Harry, Ron and Hermione. They were still arguing over what to do next.

Then, over the yelling of the combatants outside and the argument going on inside, Ginny became aware of something that made her turn to look at the gate; three voices she had hoped not to hear until she was back at Hogwarts. She watched in fascination as a hand reached out to grasp the bars.

"Don't touch that!" she yelled as Harry, Ron and Hermione whipped their wands out.

It was too late. Draco Malfoy, flanked by Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott, had grabbed the bars of the gate with both hands and leaned his forehead against the crossbar to peer into the crypt.

"Hey, let u—" he began, but stopped abruptly as the spell upon the gate took effect. His eyes grew wide and he screamed in terror as his body froze in place. The spell raced up his arms to his shoulders and vocal cords, silencing him in less than three seconds. The only part of him that remained active was his eyes; they swivelled beseechingly from Ginny to Harry to Hermione and finally Ron.

"Stand back!" Harry ordered. Draco's companions complied quickly as Harry crossed the crypt. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out there with the other Death Eaters?" He gestured vaguely in the direction of the square.

Blaise scowled as he answered, "No! Not all Slytherins are Death Eaters, Potter," as Theo demanded to be let in.

"They're after us, the Death Eaters!" he exclaimed.

"Stop the spell, Potter!" Blaise demanded, pointing to Draco. "What's wrong with him?"

Harry pointed his wand at the gate but didn't cast the counter spell on Draco. "He's frozen. He has less than five minutes before his body begins shutting down. Now how did you find the crypt?" he demanded.

Theo shifted from one foot to the other as he answered, "Professor Dumbledore told us about it when we were at Grimmauld Place last summer. Said you might need help with the Death Eaters some day. That's why we're here." He glanced at Blaise who nodded. "We made Unbreakable Vows not to tell anyone else."

Harry still didn't seem satisfied. "How did you know you were needed today?"

Blaise pulled up his left sleeve enough for the four Gryffindors to see the bottom of his Dark Mark. "It burned and we were told to go to Godric's Hollow."

Ron didn't look convinced. "How do we know who you really are? You could be Dolohov on Polyjuice Potion, for all we know. What can you tell us that will prove you're telling the truth?"

Blaise stepped closer to the gate, but didn't touch it. At nearly a whisper, he said, "Fourth year, Draco gave several interviews to Rita Skeeter who likes to turn into a bug." He glanced apprehensively over his shoulder.

"A lot of people could have seen that," Harry said, scowling.

"Yeah, they did," Theo said, still shifting nervously from one foot to the other. He, too, glanced out into the graveyard. "But they didn't know what Draco was doing. They kept trying to give him cough drops 'cause it looked like he was having a coughing fit."

Harry's shoulders lost some of their rigidity. He cast the cancellation spell and Ginny watched in fascination as Draco began to thaw out. He fell backward and Theo and Blaise caught him as Harry unlocked the gate. "Get in here quickly," he hissed at them.

Theo and Blaise lowered Draco onto the floor of the crypt next to the Basilisk fang and the sword which now lay at Ron's feet. Theo conjured a pillow to put under his friend's head. Draco lay there shivering until Ginny took pity on him and covered him with her travelling cloak, tucking it around him to keep out the cold. She cast a warming spell on the cloak and then sat down on the floor next to his head, her wand on her knees just in case she needed it.

"He's got to thaw out somehow," she told Harry heatedly when he scowled at her. "Lying there on the cold floor won't help him retain his body heat, if he has any left."

Hermione, meanwhile, had started the final tidying of the crypt. As she reached for the Basilisk fang, Draco croaked through chattering teeth, "N-n-no, l-l-leave it… there."

Startled, Hermione withdrew her hand and sat back on her heels, watching him warily. With a great effort, Draco rolled onto his side and struggled to sit up. Looking at Harry, he pushed up his left sleeve, revealing his Dark Mark saying, "Maybe this will prove… I'm no Death Eater." Then, quicker than Ginny thought he could move in his half-frozen state, Draco seized the Basilisk fang and in one swift motion, plunged the point into the centre of his Dark Mark.

The other occupants of the crypt froze in morbid fascination as the Mark began to writhe and smoke. Draco screamed, his face contorted with pain, as the venom in the huge tooth began to eat away at the gruesome tattoo. With a supreme effort, he yanked the fang from his arm and stabbed the Dark Mark again in another location. The second hole created by the embedded fang began to grow long, greenish tendrils that crept towards the original hole. They engulfed every line of the Mark in an eerie green light and a black blood-like substance began oozing rapidly from the tattoo. It dripped onto the cold floor where it pooled in a growing, steaming circle. Suddenly, the Mark seemed to scream and with a shudder it dissipated and was gone from Draco's arm, leaving two bloody holes where the fang had pierced his skin. Still clutching the fang, he collapsed, gasping, on the floor again. Silence filled the crypt. The others just stared at Draco's arm.

After about a minute, Theo broke the silence. "Do you have another fang?" he requested, surprising all four Gryffindors.

Still staring at Draco's bleeding arm, Hermione hurriedly unzipped her bag and pulled out another fang and handed it to him. She glanced at Blaise, who nodded wordlessly, and gave him a third fang. Once again, the air was again filled the terrible screams of the two remaining Dark Marks and their assailants until all three wizards at last lay bleeding and unconscious upon the floor.

"Hermione," Ginny whispered, "was that supposed to happen, I mean, the Dark Marks going completely away like that?"

Scowling in concentration, Hermione answered, "I assume the Marks reacted like the Diary did, only the venom on the fangs purged the darkness from their bodies and not an object." She shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Suddenly, Harry clutched at his forehead. Before Ginny could stand up, Ron was at his side, his hand moving to support his friend as Harry began to sway.

"What's up, Harry?" he asked, his face full of concern.

"Scar," Harry gasped. "Knows… Dark Marks… gone."

Ron took most of Harry's weight as he closed his eyes and seemed to lose himself in the vision. Ginny exchanged concerned looks Hermione; she was biting her lower lip and glancing between the Slytherins and Harry.

With more confidence than she felt, Ginny murmured to Hermione, "Harry'll be all right. Ron'll do right by him."

Hermione sighed. "I know, but it still bothers me that none of us can do anything to stop Harry's pain."

"Well," Ginny said gravely, eyeing Harry and Ron, "since Ron seems to know what to do for Harry, maybe we should see to Malfoy, Nott and Zabini."

Without waiting for Hermione's response, she leaned over and extracted the fang from Draco's grasp and handed it back to her. She then touched the skin between the two holes, snatching her hand back when she discovered that Draco's arm was burning hot.

_If his arm's this hot that means the Mark was probably connected in some way to Draco's soul,_ she thought as she felt his forehead. Draco had a high fever now and had begun to shiver uncontrollably.

She wracked her brain trying to remember the charms her mum always used on burns and fevers. They came to her just as Draco stirred. She cast the charms and watched his face intently; the moment the spells hit, Draco relaxed and opened his eyes, focusing on a point over Ginny's left shoulder. She turned and followed his gaze. Harry's eyes were open, but he was still leaning heavily on Ron.

"Proof enough for you, Potter?" he whispered.

Somewhat shakily, Harry knelt beside Ginny. "You didn't have to do that," he said quietly as she put an arm around his waist to support him.

Draco glanced at his unconscious companions. "Yes, we did. You wouldn't have believed us otherwise."

Ginny turned to look at Harry as he admitted, "Yah, you're right. I wouldn't have." He hesitated, then asked, "How are you feeling?"

Draco managed a small smile. "Lousy," he said and fell back onto the conjured pillow, "but free."

Ginny touched Draco's arm and felt his forehead again. His skin was still warm to the touch, but not as hot as before. Without looking up, she said, "Hermione, check Theo's and Blaise's arms. The fang's magic made Draco's arm hot."

Hermione knelt between the other two boys and gingerly touched their arms. Just as Ginny had done, she snatched her fingers away and swiftly cast her own healing charms. Blaise and Theo began to stir as Ginny cast her charms again. This time, Draco managed a weak "thank you" before running an exploratory finger over his arm as it lay on the cold stone floor.

"Can I get you anything?" Ginny asked, feeling strangely concerned for the boy who had been her nemesis for as long as she'd been at Hogwarts. "Are you in pain?"

"Not much. Do you have any Dittany?" Draco asked, shaking his head. "It might heal my arm faster."

Hermione spoke up from where she was tending Blaise and Theo. Her tone as conflicted as Ginny felt. "I've got some, but I'm reluctant to use it. At least not until I can be sure there won't be an adverse reaction with the Basilisk venom."

"There shouldn't," Draco said.

"I know," Hermione responded, "but we're sort of in new territory and if something goes wrong all three of you could be horribly disfigured."

Draco laughed hollowly. "It wouldn't be any worse than what I just took off my arm."

Ginny sucked in a surprised breath as Harry joined in. "No worse than having a lightning bolt on your forehead."

The two wizards eyed each other intently and Ginny had the impression that a silent understanding had just been forged between them.

She tried a different healing charm, this one for open wounds that she'd used many times during the battle of Hogsmeade. As Draco's wounds began to heal over, she turned to Hermione and asked for the Dittany.

"Be careful, Ginny," the older witch cautioned. "Go slowly and watch your patient carefully."

An absurd urge to laugh raced through Ginny's brain as she answered cheekily, "Yes, Healer Granger."

Hermione looked up, catching Ginny's eye, and the two began to giggle. The nervous laughter was infectious and soon even Ron had joined in from his seat next to James and Lily's grave. It felt good to release some of the tension and it calmed Ginny's nerves enough that she could tip one tiny drop of the Dittany onto Draco's arm. The puncture wounds closed up, leaving faint indentations even though the skin was perfectly healed.

Draco shifted onto his side again, pulling Ginny's cloak more securely about his body. "Thank you, Ginny," he said, startling her because he'd never used her given name before. He looked past her, then, to where Harry was now sitting next to Ron.

"Harry, what can I do to help you?" he asked.

Harry's head jerked up; he had a far-away look in his eyes that Ginny didn't like. "Er…" he responded. "Oh. We're isolated in here," he said finally, his voice sounding more normal. "Any ideas on how many Death Eaters are out there? How do we find out which side has more fighters?"

"This crypt's under magical protection other than the graveyard's?" Draco asked, calling Ginny's attention to the fact that the cries and yells from outside the crypt had become distinctly louder in the last few minutes.

"Yeah, a Fidelius Charm and a few others," Harry said. "The crypt should stay hidden even if the graveyard's enchantments fail." He scowled as a triumphant yell suddenly rent the air and the air in the crypt seemed to shimmer.

They heard yells of "Find Potters' crypt" and "Grab the git" and "Take him to the Dark Lord" coming from several directions.

"Harry, you need to stay hidden," Hermione said desperately, looking at Ron.

Beside her, Blaise and Theo struggled to sit up. She gently pushed them back down onto the floor ordering, "Lay down, you two."

Theo must have been feeling better for he quipped, "Yes, ma'am," and did as he was told.

Kreacher, who had hidden himself in the darkest corner of the crypt when Draco, Theo and Blaise had entered, now ventured over and bowed to Hermione. She acknowledged him with a smile.

"Mistress Hermione, tell Kreacher how he can help," he croaked.

Draco caught Ginny's eye and mouthed, "Mistress Hermione?" to which Ginny replied, "Later."

Hermione looked at the others as if to say, "What do I do?" It was the first time Ginny had seen her friend in a quandary. They needed help, but she wasn't about to order the elf to put his life in danger.

"Hermione," Ron said, "Kreacher is asking; you aren't ordering him to do anything he doesn't want to do, right? He wants to help, he's volunteering, and if you phrase it right, he can refuse if he wants to."

Hermione smiled gratefully at Ron. Addressing Kreacher, she asked, "Do you know if there are any house-elves in Godric's Hollow?"

"Yes, Mistress Hermione, there are ten house-elves in the village. What can we do?" Kreacher croaked.

A thoughtful look passed over Hermione's face. "We need protective spells to keep the homes and businesses in the village safe from spells and especially fire. Could you organize the village elves to quickly cast the necessary spells to keep the damage to a minimum?"

Kreacher puffed out his chest. "Tell Kreacher when to go and the elves will protect the village," he said. Then he glanced at Harry. "Especially Master's homes."

Harry looked surprised as he said, "Er, thank you, Kreacher, but my homes should not have priority over anyone else's. Please wait until everyone knows what they're doing before you Disapparate."

Kreacher bowed low to Harry and Hermione, then returned to his corner.

"Ginny, where did you tell everyone to Apparate to?" Ron asked suddenly.

"The only safe place I could think of was the street in front of Gwenyn's gate. I remembered it was pretty deserted around there, so it should have been safe to arrive there Disillusioned," she replied.

"Right, then. Ron, Hermione, we need someone to find out how many Death Eaters are actually in the graveyard and someone to keep an eye out for the DA and Order," Harry said.

"I'll count Death Eaters," Ron said. "I remember seeing a flat-roofed building across the square from the graveyard that would be a perfect vantage point."

"If I go to the bandstand," Hermione said, "I can see the entire square and the two streets leading off it from there." She paused, looking directly at Harry. "Something tells me you need to stay hidden. I hate to say it, Harry, but you've got to stay here until we know whether it's just Death Eaters or if You-Know-Who really has come."

Harry scowled. "I don't like it, but I agree. I don't like hiding."

_Save your energy for your confrontation with You-Know-Who_, Ginny shot at him.

Glancing at her, Harry replied, _And what am I supposed to do while you six risk your lives?_

Out loud, Ginny said, "I know you don't like hiding, Harry, but someone needs to stay with Draco, Blaise and Theo until they feel well enough to join the DA."

She turned to Draco, Theo and Blaise. "Now that you've de-Marked yourselves, I assume you're willing to help us protect Harry until it's time for him to confront You-Know-Who," she said, piercing each of them with her eyes.

They all returned the look. "That's why we came in the first place," Theo acknowledged.

"Very well," Hermione said. "Once we're all in place, we need to get our findings to Harry. How?"

"We can use our galleons if you two brought yours," Ginny said, fishing hers from her pocket, thinking fast.

Both Ron and Hermione pulled theirs out. "Standard issue," mumbled Ron, eliciting nervous chuckles from the rest of the group.

The only one who didn't laugh was Harry; a haunted expression crossed his face as Ginny received his thoughts, _There's a problem with that plan, Ginny. I couldn't find my galleon this morning, so I don't have it with me._

_How are we communicating now?_ Ginny reminded him.

_Thanks. I needed that, _Harry said, smiling a little.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Time's not going to stand still and I don't want to be stuck in here much longer. Harry, you said we can Disapparate directly from the crypt but it's charmed not to let anyone Apparate in?"

"Yes."

She began issuing orders. "All right, everyone. Ron and Kreacher will go first. Harry, can I borrow your Invisibility Cloak? You stay here with the others until we know what we're up against. Ginny, wait two minutes before leaving."

Draco added, "Be careful out there," surprising everyone. "And thanks."

"Right, let's go," Ron said. And with a cheeky salute to Hermione and Harry, he Disapparated, followed by Kreacher and finally Hermione, who took the Invisibility Cloak with her in her bum bag. Draco, Theo and Blaise remained on the floor, having agreed they all needed more time to recover: Harry would stay with them as planned. Ginny turned to leave, too, but Harry caught her arm.

"Hold on a minute, Ginny," he requested. When she looked up at him he fumbled with the chain around his neck, finally getting the clasp undone. He handed it to her solemnly. "Keep it safe for me, Ginny," he said. "I want it back later when I'll need it most."

She gazed into the depths of his eyes, knowing that whatever he needed to do, he didn't want to risk the reserved magic the necklace held. She nodded and stuffed the phoenix into her jeans pocket without looking down. "I will, Harry. I promise," she whispered. Then she blinked and lunged forward to hug him fiercely.

Harry briefly returned the hug, then stepped back, giving Ginny room to Disillusion herself and depart via the gate.

As soon as she was free of the crypt's enchantments, Ginny found a tall statue, melting into its shadows and using its cover to Disapparate to the roof of the church. Still Disillusioned, she began scanning the square and graveyard looking for Ron and Hermione. Because of his hair colour, Ron was easy to spot; she found him crouching on the flat roof of the green grocers. A moment later, he, too, Disillusioned himself and disappeared from sight. Hermione was harder to find. She'd chosen to land either on the roof of or in the tree next to the bandstand in the middle of the square. Her clothing was so well camouflaged that when Ginny finally found her in the tree, she actually looked a part of it.

Ginny pulled a small mirror from her pocket and flashed it once at Ron and then again at Hermione. Now came the hard part; waiting for her brother and best friend to report in. She felt her DA galleon grow warm and Apparated inside the steeple of the church, landing precariously on one of the cross beams supporting the bells. It moved a little under her weight and Ginny waited for the great bell beneath her to clang. It didn't, so she eased herself down to straddle the beam and pulled out her galleon.

Ron had written, "50 DE/50 V graveyard."

As his message disappeared, Hermione's materialized before her eyes: "OotP and DA approaching from Gwenyn."

Smiling to herself, Ginny opened her connection with Harry and reported, _Ron says there are fifty Death Eaters battling as many villagers in the graveyard. Hermione reported seeing the Order and the DA coming from Gwenyn._

Harry answered immediately. _Excellent. Tell Ron and Hermione to join the DA and Order. Everyone needs to stay out of the square until we're better organized._

Ginny smiled as she encoded her galleon with Harry's message and sent it to Ron and Hermione. The Death Eaters were in for a surprise.

**End of Chapter 18**

**A/N:** Well, there it is… surprised that Draco, Theo and Blaise renounced Voldemort and turned into good guys? Aggiebell, my beta, was, but she really shouldn't have been and neither should you because there have been hints all along in this series that something like this might happen with these three Slytherins. For example, in the closing chapters of _New Year, New Hope_ several characters openly discussed Draco, Theo and Blaise and their fates after the Battle of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. You may recall that Harry gave Theo and Blaise sanctuary at Grimmauld Place to recover from their injuries—ones they sustained during the battle—since he was the owner of the house. (Draco recuperated at Grimmauld Place as well, even though that bit of knowledge wasn't made known until Chapter 8 of this story.) Then, at the Leaving Feast, Draco was given one of the Service to the School awards for his part in protecting the first and second years. I've left you other hints throughout this story, too… They're just few and far between.

Since I've already mentioned Aggiebell, I now need to thank her for beta-ing this chapter. I sincerely appreciate her going over each of my chapters and making comments and adding or taking out commas as necessary. I am thankful that she has the time to help me get my story published.


	29. 29 Battle in the Graveyard

**Chapter 29: Battle in the Graveyard**

It was snowing lightly when Ginny joined the Order of the Phoenix and the members of Dumbledore's Army in the lane connecting the two Godric's Hollow settlements. Much to her relief, everyone had heeded Hermione's warning and had not ventured into the square.

She had to smile when she spotted Colin Creevey sitting high enough in a tree to get a good view of the battle taking place there. He was dressed in some sort of Muggle military uniform that was covered in splotches of white, grey and black and was peering at the Death Eaters through a tiny pair of Muggle Omnioculars. She Disillusioned herself. He climbed down and gave her a big hug when she called softly to him: They hadn't seen each other since the Carrows had injured him during a detention in October. His parents had pulled him and Dennis out of Hogwarts as soon as Colin had been fit to travel.

Now Ginny asked, "What are you doing here? Have you recovered fully?"

Colin laughed softly. "Yes, Ginny, I've fully recovered. How's Harry?"

"Nearly back to normal," she answered, her concerned tone causing Colin to quirk an eyebrow at her. "He's here now and I wish he wasn't."

"You sound like my mother," Colin commented and Ginny scowled at him.

"You know how stubborn he can be," Ginny said. "Well, he talked Ron and Hermione into coming here this morning and something he did alerted the Death Eaters."

"So now we get our chance to fight them," Colin said, completing her thought.

"Exactly," she agreed. "Hey, it's really good to see you. Talk to you later?"

"Definitely," Colin answered enthusiastically and they parted company allowing Ginny to focus on the gathering crowd of adults and students again.

She found her parents amongst the adults who were milling about and immediately re-cast her spell, not yet wanting to face them. Her mother looked particularly agitated, so Ginny decided to waylay her parents' questions—and her mother's wrath—for as long as possible: She didn't fancy being chewed out in public at the moment. In the meantime, Ginny made a mental list of who had shown up to help.

She was encouraged by the number of DA members who had responded to Neville's summons. Gryffindor House was the best represented, followed by Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Houses. Even a few Slytherins had come, which surprised Ginny greatly because there weren't any Slytherins in the DA. She eyed Daphne Greengrass and her younger sister, Asteria, with a raised eyebrow. The Slytherin mouthed, "Later" as Ginny was suddenly engulfed in a maternal hug.

"Thank goodness you're safe!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed into Ginny's hair. "Don't you ever go sneaking off like that again, young lady! It's bad enough that your brother and Harry and Hermione left without leaving a note, you had to do it, too! As if I didn't have enough to worry about to turn me completely grey! Oh, I should send you home this instant to clean the entire Burrow without magic!"

"Mum, you're squeezing me," Ginny protested feebly. "Let me go!"

She felt a wand tap her head, followed by the tell-tale feeling of warmth flowing over her, which made Mrs Weasley release her hold. A familiar voice behind her said calmly, "You see? Ginny's just fine, Mrs Weasley, just like Ron and Hermione are."

Ginny stepped away from her mother and surveyed Harry's cousin incredulously. "Dudley! How did you get here?"

"Side-Along-Apparition with your dad, Ginny. I convinced him that I needed to be here with the rest of you," Dudley answered. He glanced over at Mr. Weasley who was twirling his wand between his fingers.

"Why? This isn't your fight," she said before she could stop herself.

Dudley drew himself to his full height. "I may not be able to wield a wand, but I can be useful in other ways." He gestured towards the milling crowd. "Every one of these people is a fighter, Ginny. They're all focusing on the battle to come. No one here has given any thought to staying behind the line of skirmish to help Madam Pomfrey, for example. This isn't Hogwarts where she can treat the injured without first commandeering a building. I can help her set up and manage the triage unit so she won't be overwhelmed if there are a lot of injuries. I want to help, Ginny, and this is the best way I can think of to support Harry," he answered. He looked around the square and over to the graveyard where a mass of black-cloaked figures was gathering ominously.

"Glad to have you with us, then," Ginny said sincerely, realizing everything Dudley had just said was true. "Where can I tell everyone to take the injured?"

"The church would be ideal, but it'll be too close to the fighting probably," Dudley commented, looking around.

"Why not the school?" someone asked. "There's one back there a ways. It's got plenty of room and isn't too far from the square."

Dudley searched the group for the speaker, finding him and smiling his thanks. "That's a perfect. What do you think, Madam Pomfrey?"

"It's the best place," the Hogwarts healer said, peering over the heads of the assembled crowd at the one-story building. She flicked her wand at a pile of boxes, causing them to levitate. "Come, Dudley, you can help me break and enter and get things squared away before my patients begin arriving."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. Turning to the others he grinned. "I really hope I _don't_ see any of you until this is all over."

"Hear, hear!" someone called.

Ginny watched him go, momentarily caught up in the memories of the Hogsmeade battle just six months before. She could have used Dudley's dry wit and bodily bulk to deal with a few of the more surly Slytherins who Neville and Luna had brought into Honeydukes that day. Luckily, there hadn't been anything she couldn't handle with a few barbed words of her own coupled with an equal number of her mother's security charms…

A huge _BOOM!_ suddenly rocked the village from the direction of the graveyard, bringing her back to the present. Harry and the villagers needed the group gathered around her… immediately! A quick assessment told her that fifty Hogwarts students had shown up along with another thirty or so adults; not nearly enough to keep up a sustained fight if the duelling stretched out for longer than an hour.

"Does anyone know if there will be more people coming to help us?" she asked the group at large. "Even though the villagers are willing to help us, they've been dealing with Death Eaters for nearly an hour already and the number of Death Eater reinforcements just keeps getting bigger. They need our help _now._"

"Each of the Order made several Floo calls before we left," called a voice that sounded very much Remus Lupin.

"When can we expect reinforcements of our own?" Ron called, joining Ginny at the front of the group.

"Hopefully in another couple of hours," a burly wizard Ginny didn't recognize answered.

"That's not soon enough!" she exclaimed, feeling frustrated. "We need reinforcements now so we can support the villagers!"

"We did the best we could under the circumstances," retorted the burly wizard.

"Who was on the list of those to call?" Ginny asked.

"Anyone who ever attended Hogwarts," someone else answered.

Ron bellowed, "We want names! We want names of fighters we can count on!"

There was a general grumbling in the crowd, as if people were reluctant to give out specific names. "Oliver Wood and the Puddlemere United Team," someone finally called out.

"Excellent!"

"Ministry workers."

"Which ones?" Ron and Ginny called out together, with Ron adding, "We don't need the ones who have been Imperiused."

People began calling out.

"Dirk Cresswell."

"Gilbert Wimple."

"Arnold Peasegood and Eric Munch."

"Amos Diggory."

"Are there more?" Ron hollered toward the back of the crowd.

People began shuffling aside as someone pushed through the group. "Me!"

The crowd began cheering when they heard his voice. "I brought as many Aurors with me as I could find," Alastor Moody growled, "current and retired."

Hope rippled through the assembled witches and wizards and they stepped aside to let the rest of the Aurors through.

In all, there were thirty current and retired Aurors in the group Mad-Eye Moody had assembled. The presence of these highly-skilled people, most of whom had the authority to arrest the "bad guys" and send them straight to Azkaban under "normal" circumstances, greatly buoyed the spirits of the less skilled students and adults gathered around Ginny, Ron and Hermione, and Neville and Luna, who had come with the DA and were now standing with her friends at the front of the crowd.

Suddenly, someone called out, "Where's Harry? We don't see him. I came to fight with Harry." The voice sounded very much like Zacharias Smith.

"He's here," Ginny quickly assured the speaker before more questions were asked, "but if I told you where he is I'd be compromising his position and I won't do that."

The crowd parted just enough for Ginny to see the speaker; it _was_ Zacharias Smith. "If You-Know-Who gets here will he fight him so we can all see?"

"Yes," she answered hesitantly.

"Why isn't he standing here with us?"

"If you recall, Harry was rescued from the Death Eaters just three months ago," Ginny shot back, now thoroughly annoyed at Zacharias. "He was starved and tortured and has been recovering his strength. He needs to conserve his energy, not waste it milling about in the street while we wait for reinforcements." She sighed impatiently. "So when I say he's here and hidden I'm telling you the truth!"

"All right, keep your hair on! I'm sorry! I just wanted to make sure we hadn't come here for nothing."

Neville stepped forward and called out, "If you only came to Godric's Hollow to watch Harry fight, I think you'd better take your wand and go home! With an attitude like that we don't need you."

Zacharias folded his arms across his chest defiantly. "All right, I said I was sorry. I'm here. I'll fight the Death Eaters."

"Good. I'm glad that's settled." Neville scowled briefly at Zacharias and then raised his wand in the air, its tip shooting red and gold sparks in the air. "Is everyone with me? Let's go help Harry!"

Hermione stepped forward. "No!" she shot back. "Let's go help the villagers defend their homes. They're fighting for their freedom just as much as we will be."

However, no one had heard her speech because, with a mighty roar, the assembled freedom fighters surged down the street towards the square and the besieged villagers in the graveyard.

**oOo**

To say that the villagers welcomed the newcomers was an understatement. The beleaguered defenders of the graveyard cheered at the sight of so many reinforcements joining the fray and for the moment, the good guys outnumbered the bad.

Then a Death Eater's spell struck Ernie MacMillan, flattening him against the bandstand in the middle of the square. Hannah Abbott, who had been running next to him, raised her wand and returned fire.

"Oh, no you don't!" she cried as Justin Finch-Fletchley hung back and cancelled the Stunning Spell that had hit their friend. A moment later, the three were battling fiercely with the Death Eater as others poured out the kissing gate to engage the newcomers.

The battle commenced in earnest once more.

**oOo**

A bright orange spell shot through the air towards her, followed by a magenta one as Ginny flitted from tombstone to tombstone trying to use the battered monuments as hiding places. She threw up a hasty shield and crouched down, ready to run another couple of metres in the direction of the great spreading tree at the top of the hill.

She was worried about Harry. He hadn't communicated with her through their connection for quite some time and Ginny hoped that nothing had happened to blow his cover. She needed to know for herself if he was all right. Peeking over the top of the headstone towards her destination, she was relieved to see that the Potter family crypt was still standing.

She counted to three and dashed across the open ground between the rows of headstones and into the shelter of a large gargoyle's wings. She heaved a sigh of relief and was just about to go closer when a tall figure, followed by two others, sprinted past her in pursuit of a hooded figure. The three caught up with it and engaged the Death Eater in a short, but fierce, duel. It wasn't hard for her to recognize the three younger duellists; she'd been with them in the crypt less than two hours ago. _Who are Draco, Theo and Blaise fighting so fiercely?_ she wondered.

Fascinated and curious about the combatants' identities, Ginny crept along the row of tombstones until she had a clear view of the duel.

"You've made a regrettable mistake, Draco!" the hooded figure jeered as his wand slashed through the air and his spell hit its mark. Draco's left sleeve ripped open and blood began pouring from a new wound. He momentarily clutched his arm before pointing his wand at the opening while Theo covered him.

"We made no mistake, _Father_," came Draco's sneered answer. "Getting rid of our Dark Marks was a voluntary sacrifice we gladly made!"

"You'll pay for your impertinence. The Dark Lord doesn't forgive and forget like your precious Professor Dumbledore. He knows who removed their Marks and will personally deal with you after the battle," Lucius Malfoy screamed as his hood flew off, exposing his pale blond hair and cold expression.

"I have no intention of letting the Dark Lord capture me or otherwise entice me to rejoin him with his empty promises of personal power and rewards for evil well done," Draco roared back, sending a dark blue spell Ginny had never seen at his father. Lucius dodged nimbly behind a tombstone. An angel several rows farther down the hill exploded into bits of marble.

"Then you'll pay for your disloyalty, just like so many others have." A bright purple spell erupted from Lucius' wand, missing Blaise by millimetres.

"No, we won't," Blaise bellowed as Theo yelled, "Not on your life!" But their words were drowned out by an agonized scream from Draco. His father's next spell had ripped open his robes, shredding the front of his shirt and exposing his bloodied torso to the frigid air. Draco collapsed in the snow, his bloody entrails spilling out and turning the pristine white surface a deep crimson.

Theo ran to Draco's side shouting, "Cover me, Blaise!" as his friend positioned himself in front of the two and began trading spells with Lucius again. A moment later, his hands covered in Draco's blood, Theo re-entered the fray.

The three battled for several minutes. The two younger wizards were fairly matched and worked well together and with their surroundings. Lucius, on the other hand, seemed to play dirty. He Apparated freely from monument to monument, never staying in one place for longer than it took to cast a spell or two. This kept Ginny guessing because his appearances didn't seem to have a pattern to them and she could see that Draco's friends refused to leave him exposed in order to pursue his father. Instead, they stayed close using their bodies and magic to shield their friend; their heads swivelled towards each new sound, their expressions becoming increasingly panicky with each new disappearance. All the while, they moved in a constant circle with their wands ready as if trying to anticipate where Lucius would appear next.

Finally, Lucius Apparated to a spot behind his opponents. He called out to them, causing both to turn around, exposing themselves for the first time since their defence of Draco had commenced. Ginny watched in horror as Lucius cast the same spell he had used on his son first on Blaise and then on Theo with the same result. A moment later, Lucius Malfoy stood over the bodies and aimed a vicious kick in Draco's direction. The sound of breaking bones carried clearly in the cold air to where Ginny crouched. Impulsively, she stood up and sent her most powerful bludgeoning spell at the Malfoy patriarch, hoping to break every bone in his body. The spell hit Lucius just as Draco feebly raised his wand and cried, "_Avada Kedavra!_" Now there were four bodies lying in the snow instead of just three.

Ginny didn't waste any time. She raced over to the pile of bodies, frantically peeling off her gloves. She reached Blaise first and was immediately sick to her stomach. She finished retching and then felt for a pulse in his neck. It was there, weak but steady, and she knew if she could get him to the school, he might live. She bit her lip and moved on to Draco.

Draco stirred briefly when she touched him, but the fact that he was already feeling cold and clammy gave her little hope that he'd live. She did her best to push his organs back inside his body, wanting to give him a little dignity in death. She felt her eyes stinging and she turned away to crawl to Theo's side.

He was in the same condition as Blaise and Ginny stared helplessly at his stricken expression for a moment. As with the other two, she murmured words of comfort to Theo and squeezed his hand as he pleaded for her to take away the pain. Then, with shaking hands and a feeling of pure dread, Ginny stood and walked over to Lucius Malfoy. _Yes,_ she concluded without having to touch the body, _Lucius Malfoy is finally dead._

At that moment, Harry contacted her. _Ginny, has something happened?_

Biting her lower lip, she sent back, _I just helped Draco kill his father._

She felt Harry's concern as he said, _I'll be right there._

_No! Harry! Stay hidden! I've got to get Draco, Theo and Blaise to Madam Pomfrey before they die. I can't be worrying about you, too!_

"We'll get them to Madam Pomfrey together and then I'll go back to the crypt," Harry said aloud as he appeared a few feet away. "Here, I'll make us a Portkey." And snatching up Lucius Malfoy's wand, he snapped it in two and used the pieces to create the Portkeys they needed. When the wood stopped glowing, he helped Ginny wrap the hands of the three injured boys around them and a moment later, they landed safely in a corner of the school cafeteria, not too far from where Dudley was tending another student. He turned his head and nodded gravely when he saw Madam Pomfrey's three newest patients.

As Ginny and Harry turned to leave via the door, Dudley stood up, shaking his head sadly, and Ginny gasped; the blood-covered student Dudley had been tending was Colin Creevey.

"You know him?" Dudley asked quietly.

Both Harry and Ginny nodded. "He's… he's a Gryffindor… my year," Ginny said, stumbling over the words.

Dudley came over to them. "I'm sorry. He didn't make it. Nothing we did helped," he said in a broken voice.

Ginny briefly closed her eyes. "Thank you, Dudley," she said hollowly. "We know you and Madam Pomfrey did your best." She reached down and took his hand in her own, pulling him into a gentle hug. He stood stiffly for a moment before raising his arms and returning the embrace.

Harry cleared his throat. "Ginny, I need to get back," he said with a deep sigh.

Looking between the two cousins, Ginny said, "I know. So do I, but I'd like to help Dudley move Colin if it's all right with you."

Harry nodded sadly, gesturing to Draco, Blaise and Theo. "They're badly hurt. You'll see to them?" he asked. When Dudley nodded, Harry said to Ginny, "See you in a bit, then."

When he was gone, Ginny levitated Colin's body to a classroom half-filled with bodies. Knowing that if she took the time to look at the faces she wouldn't keep her composure, she tried to keep her eyes only on Colin and Dudley. She turned to leave and had almost made it to the door when her eyes unconsciously strayed to the bodies closest to the exit. She drew in a sharp breath as she recognized Remus Lupin and Auror Tonks laying side by side, their eyes closed in eternal sleep.

Dudley put a hand on her arm. "More people you know?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes. Remus Lupin, the last of Harry's dad's friends and a brilliant teacher," she told him, pointing to Professor Lupin.

"Oh, no! That's Tonks!" Dudley said, his voice betraying his dismay. "We rode with her the night we rescued Harry."

"We did," Ginny agreed, trying to smile through the tears running down her cheeks.

Dudley sighed and dug in his pocket, coming up with a wrinkled handkerchief. He handed it to her saying, "They were good people. I remember how funny Tonks was, how she made me feel at ease when everything was so tense. She… she let me lead that night."

Ginny sniffed, performed a quick cleaning charm on the handkerchief and handed it back to Dudley. "That was her way, you know?" she agreed.

He pocketed it and took her elbow, steering her out the door and down the corridor to the back door of the cafeteria in silence. They stood together for a moment longer. "Thank you, Ginny," Dudley said awkwardly as she turned to leave. "Give 'em hell."

"I will," she said determinedly. Then, she Apparated back to the square.

**oOo**

Ginny knew the instant Voldemort arrived in Godric's Hollow because Harry suddenly transmitted a scream of agony that made her catch her breath. She could feel his distress coming through their connection.

Quickly scanning the melee, she found Hermione running between groups of duellers, giving aid where needed. "Hermione! Call Kreacher!" she cried.

Hermione sprinted towards her. She slid the last few feet on the muddy ground and came to a stop only when she grabbed Ginny's arm. "Why? What's the matter?" she panted as they crouched down behind a headstone.

"Voldemort just Apparated into the village somewhere," Ginny explained hastily. A Death Eater raced past and she sent a neat little trip jinx his way that knocked him flat. Hermione Stunned him and together they dragged him behind a large tombstone. As they bound his hands and feet, she whispered, "Harry's in pain again. He felt it when Voldemort entered the village."

"Does he know where Voldemort is?" Hermione asked.

"No. That's what we need Kreacher for. Kreacher's sneaky enough to find out where Voldemort is—without getting caught—so we can send a group to meet him and his entourage," said Ginny. "You and Harry are the only two who can call Kreacher and give him orders."

Hermione frowned. "I don't know…" she said hesitantly.

"Hermione, this is no time to for scruples!" Ginny hissed. "Either call Kreacher or I'll go myself!"

Glaring at Ginny, Hermione called the house-elf. He appeared immediately, croaking, "How can I help, Mistress Hermione?"

Hermione told him what she wanted and the elf bowed deeply. "Kreacher will be back shortly." He disappeared, leaving the two witches fretting in their snowy hiding place.

"I really don't like doing that," Hermione fretted.

Ginny put her hand on her friend's arm. "If he chooses his hiding places well, he'll be all right," she said soothingly. Hermione only glared at her.

It didn't take long for Kreacher to report back. His expression was grim as he said, "The Dark Lord has taken over the Potter Memorial. Kreacher learned that he will be Apparating to the square to hunt for Harry Potter in a few minutes."

"Thank you, Kreacher," said Hermione. "Harry's not going to like that." She looked worried as she asked, "Are all the house-elves still safe?"

Kreacher nodded. "Yes, Mistress, and we're keeping the village safe from fire as best we can."

"Excellent. You may go," Hermione said as she turned to Ginny. "Tell Harry where You-Know-Who is and tell him to stay in the crypt."

"I already have," answered Ginny grimly. "And he's not happy at all."

**oOo**

There was no place for Neville to go, Ginny saw, pinned as he was against the base of the bandstand with Bellatrix Lestrange advancing on him, her wand pointed at his heart. "Time to join Mummy and Daddy in the loony bin, Baby Longbottom," she cackled. "You'll all be one big happy family, then! _Cruc—"_

It was a cheap shot, a perfect opportunity for revenge. Ginny raced past on her way to rescue Luna from a Death Eater's Leg-locker curse yelling, "_Stupefy!_" at Bellatrix's back. The spell missed, drawing the Death Eater's attention and allowing Neville to escape, just as Ginny had intended. He took advantage of the diversion and raced past his attacker, then whirled to face her again. Ginny kept going.

Bellatrix screeched, "Stand and fight, iddle baby Weasel, or are you too fwightened to stay and fight?" She brought her wand up as Neville yelled to Ron for help.

Ginny turned back. She was tired of Bellatrix talking to her like she was two years old. Besides, Neville needed her help more than Luna did at the moment. Levelling her wand at Bellatrix, she cried, "Gladly," just as Ron came running up.

"Need help, Gin?" he asked as Hermione joined them and suddenly Bellatrix was duelling four instead of one, which seemed to please the maniac witch no end.

The air between the duellers grew warm as sparks exploded from the five flashing wands and melted the snow beneath their feet, making their footing extra slippery. Nevertheless, the four students held their own, backing each other up when they could. But Ginny was becoming desperate; Luna was still calling for help and no one had come to her rescue yet, even though she seemed to be holding her own. She kept throwing glances in Luna's direction and finally, Neville noticed her distraction.

"I hear her, too," he said as he threw up a shield and let Ginny aim her curse over his shoulder. "Go on. We'll be all right."

Ginny threw another spell at Bellatrix which was returned almost immediately. Neville's shield wobbled as the spell found its mark. "Are you sure you'll be all right without me?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he said. "Go now before I change my mind."

"All right, but I'm coming back," Ginny promised, throwing up her own shield and backing out of the duel. When she was far enough away she called, "Luna! I'm coming!"

As he turned to see who had yelled, Luna caught her attacker with a Stinging Hex to the wrist that made him drop his wand. She Summoned it as Ginny yelled, "_Incarcerous!_" and seconds later Luna's assailant, a boy Ginny recognized as a former Slytherin, was neatly bound and Luna herself was in possession of two wands.

"That went well," Luna said conversationally as she fell into Ginny's arms.

"It did," Ginny agreed. "Let's team up after I get you straightened out." Luna nodded and sank to the ground.

It was easier said than done. Her friend had been hit with several curses Ginny didn't understand, so after releasing Luna from the Leg-locker curse, she dragged her out of the way and settled her under the bandstand. As she left her friend, she whispered, "Get to Madam Pomfrey as soon as you can. Can you Apparate?"

"I think so, Ginny," Luna said determinedly. "I'll be back, soon."

Ginny nodded distractedly as she scanned the square for her target. Then, revenge simmering just under the surface of her temper, Ginny went after the Slytherin who had been released from Ginny's binding spell. He was now defending Pansy Parkinson who had been cornered by a Ravenclaw seventh year Ginny knew only in passing.

She recognized the young Death Eater as one of the Chasers on last year's Quidditch team, one of the players involved in her accident. Pritchard! _You won't get away with hurting my friend like you did me!_ she thought catching up with him. She aimed her wand at his torso and yelled, "_Furnunculus!"_ The spell missed as Pritchard dived into a puddle of slushy snow. His own spell missed, giving Ginny time to aim another jinx at him. He rolled onto his feet, shaking slush out of his eyes. Ducking under her spell, he fired another at Ginny.

"_Protego!_" she yelled, leaping aside.

The two continued trading spells as the battle raged around them. Every once in a while, Ginny caught sight of Ron, Hermione and Neville and thought they just might be gaining the upper hand on Bellatrix. Pritchard took advantage of Ginny's inattention and managed to slip a Stinging Hex under her shield, bringing her mind back to her own duel. They fought on, slipping and sliding in the muck, just like everyone else involved in the battle.

A sudden scream from Bellatrix, one that sounded more startled than maniacal, attracted Ginny's attention and that of the other combatants surrounding her duel with the three Gryffindors. She was just in time to see Bellatrix land in a deep puddle, her wand flying out of her hand, just as Neville's spell found its mark. The assembled witches and wizards—including Voldemort who had finally reached the square and was sending random curses in every direction—stared in amazement as the female Death Eater's eyes grew large with comprehension; the deadly green spell slammed into her chest and she sank into the muck to move no more.

With a howl of rage, Voldemort twisted round and turned his wand on Neville yelling, "_Crucio!_" Neville collapsed, screaming in pain as the spell hit him.

Ginny didn't think. She sent a powerful Bat Bogie hex at Pritchard and, not caring whether the spell found its mark, ran to Neville's aid, hoping her spells would distract the red-eyed wizard enough for him to release her friend.

Hermione must have had the same idea for she came running, too, throwing up protection spells as she did. Between the two of them, they managed to distract Voldemort into lifting his spell from Neville. He lay on the pavement gasping for breath as, to her surprise, Professor Snape arrived and waved his wand over Neville's body. She didn't see what the result was, though; she was too busy dodging Voldemort's spells.

Ginny fought as best she could alongside Hermione, but it was soon apparent that Voldemort was only toying with them. His wand barely moved as spell after spell rained down upon the girls. Then Ron materialized out of nowhere and joined the duel, his own wand flashing faster than Ginny had ever seen it. The three fought as they had been trained, covering each other and taking turns firing spells of their own, trying their best to catch Voldemort off-guard.

The fight was a protracted one and eventually began attracting the attention of groups fighting all around the square. Silence gradually descended upon the square as the other duels stopped and everyone turned to watch Voldemort play with his opponents. Eventually, the length of the duel began taking its toll and Ginny suddenly found herself standing, not between Hermione and Ron, but alone, facing the evil red eyes she had seen so many times in her nightmares.

Almost lazily, Voldemort raised his wand. A spell erupted from its tip as Ginny quickly cast a Shield Charm. Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough and her beloved hazel wand sailed out of her hand and landed with a clatter somewhere on the other side of the square. Behind her, Hermione and Ron moved to flank her, and in her head she finally heard Harry.

_Accio Ginny's wand!_ he cried.

_No, Harry! Don't give your position away!_ she thought desperately. _There's no time!_

_I'll get you a wand if I want to!_ Harry answered angrily. _You're a sitting duck if you don't have one!_

Ginny bit her lip and didn't answer him. Instead, she returned her attention to the snake-faced wizard in front of her, preparing herself for the inevitable. With obvious pleasure, Voldemort pointed his wand at her once again and she saw, rather than heard, him scream, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

Time seemed to stand still. Ginny knew she couldn't possibly react quickly enough to dodge the speeding spell of death, not with Ron on one side and Hermione on the other.

_I'm sorry, Harry! I'll love you forever!_ she thought as the spell flew at her.

Suddenly, a wand that was not hers appeared in her hand.

Someone bellowed, "DUCK!"

Hermione screamed, Ron yelled in surprise as they were pushed aside.

Someone else, a wizard, shouted, "NO!"

Then, someone leapt in front of the curse and it hit not one, but two victims.

The ground beneath her feet shook as her defenders fell and two bodies lay motionless at her feet. Harry Potter and Severus Snape lay where they had fallen.

A hush fell over the square as Ginny froze; only her eyes moved, flicking between the wand in her hand and the bodies on the ground for a few seconds before her knees buckled and she sank into the slushy snow wailing one word, "Harry!"

To her right, Neville sat up and scooted over to her, putting is arm across her shoulders and murmuring soothing words in her ear. She couldn't register what he was saying; she only knew that a Harry-sized hole had suddenly formed in her chest and she began screaming his name over and over as she wrenched away from Neville and threw herself at her boyfriend, clutching his body while her tears streamed down her cheeks.

Another voice joined Neville's. "Ginny! GINNY!" It was Hermione. She knelt on Ginny's other side, tears running down her cheeks. "We've got to move! Voldemort!"

Ginny held on tighter to Harry. "No!" yelled. "I'm staying here with Harry!"

Neville and Hermione grabbed her arms and managed to pull her back.

Then Ron was kneeling next to Harry, tears pouring down his face, and reaching out to tenderly touch his best friend's cheek. Slowly, ever so gently, he pushed up Harry's glasses to touch his eyelids and slide them closed over the green eyes.

"There. He's sleeping," Ron choked and collapsed onto Harry's chest sobbing loud, heart-wrenching sobs. Ginny broke away from Hermione and Neville and went to him as people all round the square continued to stare silently at the scene in front of them.

The silence was broken suddenly by a pitiful cry some distance in front of Harry and Professor Snape. Voldemort, it seemed, had collapsed and now lay on the ground, writhing in agony. His hands were clutched over his heart as the Death Eaters around him edged away. The pain seemed to pass and Voldemort lay motionless. He closed his snake-like eyes and all was still. The Death Eaters crept closer. Seeing that their master was apparently still alive, they closed ranks around him, shielding him from the prying eyes of the crowd in the square.

**End of Chapter 29**


	30. Interlude: Draco's Decision

**Interlude: Draco's Decision**

Awareness came slowly. It felt as if certain senses were on overload while others stayed in the background, waiting for the signal to begin working. For some reason, this was a familiar feeling, but he couldn't remember why. At first Draco only noticed that he was warm and dry and free of pain. That in itself was a blessing, he thought vaguely, especially since the last place he remembered being was Godric's Hollow in a snowstorm. Then again, it could not be right because the last thing he remembered was the excruciating pain of the Entrail-Expelling Hex his father had hit him with during their last duel. How could it be that he felt no pain?

Dismissing the thought, he concentrated on the information his body was giving him. His sense of touch told him that he was covered with crisp cotton sheets and lying on something almost as soft as his four-poster at Hogwarts. The sounds he heard were confusing, though: to his left was the muted fall of footsteps accompanied by urgent voices asking questions and to his right was the soothing evenness of distant ocean waves. Ocean waves?

Draco opened his eyes and found himself in a simply appointed room, one that was very different from his suite at Malfoy Manor and his dormitory at Hogwarts. Where could he be?

His gaze fell on the white-washed walls of the room and he turned his head to take in his surroundings. There was a closed door to his left and on the same wall was a simple three-drawer bureau and mirror combination. There was nothing on the bureau to give him a clue to where he was. The wall opposite the bed was blank except for a painting of a farm. None of the animals in the picture were moving so Draco decided this must be a Muggle room.

_Muggle picture? Muggle room? _The idea was incomprehensible because he couldn't recall voluntarily going anywhere in the last few years that would require him to be in a Muggle room.

Nevertheless, the more he thought about it, the more important the painting became. It was a clue to where he was just as much as the window over the rustic desk and chair to his right were. He raised his head to look out the window and saw the ocean and a pier in the distance… and he knew… Somehow he'd transported himself to the room he had slept in on his favourite summer holiday, the one his family had taken when he was nine to Eastbourne on the south coast of England.

Laying his head back on the pillow, Draco stared up at the overhead ceiling fan remembering that trip. They had gone in August of 1989 and he remembered that that particular trip was the last time he'd been truly happy. His mother had made all the arrangements, finally convincing his father to agree to live in a Muggle cottage right on the beach only because there weren't any Wizarding cottages left to rent this late in the season. Of course, they hadn't lived completely as Muggles did, but for the few days they were there his parents reduced the number of times they pulled out their wands and they ate in seaside restaurants for all their meals, paying for their meals with Muggle currency—without too much grumbling from his father.

What stood out about this particular trip, though, were his parents' demeanours. Incredibly, his father had stayed the whole time they were there, he didn't reply to owls or other summonses, and he was attentive to his wife. Best of all, he had actually interacted with Draco during various activities. Draco remembered feeling very special because for once his father was giving him his undivided attention. As for his mother, she looked genuinely happy and not as if she was pretending to be, which was a rather novel concept as far as Draco was concerned. It was as if she'd left all her cares and concerns locked up at Malfoy Manor.

And what fun they'd had. Draco had spent the entire week in his bathing costume except for mealtimes. The beach had a magic of its own and when he wasn't wave jumping or swimming, he was building sand castles with Mum or flying kites with Dad. One afternoon towards the end of their stay they'd ventured onto the pier and his father had rented him a pair of Muggle Rollerblades for an hour. Although he enjoyed the sensation of gliding down the pier, by the time they'd had to take the strange wheeled shoes back to the rental office Draco had had enough skating, mostly because, he remembered, his bum had been quite sore from all the falls he'd taken.

Then, on the last night, Draco had insisted they all go to the cinema to watch a film, _The Little Mermaid,_ which they'd seen advertisements for on the pier. He had been pleasantly surprised when his father didn't grumble much about Mudbloods and Muggles and had actually gone on the little outing. Draco had never seen a Muggle film before and watching it was indeed a novel experience. He'd never felt the compulsion to see another film, though; once was enough.

Still wondering why he'd transported himself to this room full of memories, Draco pushed himself up to lean against his pillows and take a better look at himself. He was dressed in cotton pyjamas and from what he could see his body was free of the cuts and bruises he had incurred during the battle. He rolled up his sleeve to find no trace of the Dark Mark or even the small indentations left by the basilisk fangs. Now very curious, he opened his shirt and examined his torso: it was completely free of the open wounds caused by his father's spell and there were no painful broken ribs either. Something was up and he was beginning to feel very uneasy about his situation.

Folding back the bedclothes, Draco eased himself off the bed and walked over to the window. He tried to open it, but the sash was painted closed, so he gazed out at the ocean and the Eastbourne pier trying to ease the anxious feelings stirring in his mind. Finally unable to stay cooped up in the room without any answers, Draco walked towards the door intending to go out into the corridor and ask someone where exactly he was.

His hand was on the knob when someone on the other side knocked and he hastily retreated several steps. It was a good thing too, because he would have barrelled right into Professor Snape.

"Professor! What are you doing here?" Draco asked in surprise.

The Headmaster pushed his way past Draco and shut the door. "Sit down, Draco," he ordered. "You are not allowed to go anywhere until you decide what you are going to do." Professor Snape directed him to a wooden chair that was now by the bed. It hadn't been there a moment ago. Draco raised an eyebrow as the Headmaster pulled the chair from under the desk and brought it around the bed. He sat facing Draco and for the first time Draco noticed he was carrying a basket of some sort.

"Decide?" Draco asked haughtily. "Decide what?"

"What you will do, where you will go," was the professor's enigmatic answer.

Draco folded his arms across his chest and slouched in his chair. "I'm waiting," he snapped.

"For what exactly?"

"For you to tell me why you're here."

"I died." Draco raised an eyebrow at this startling answer. "And from the looks of it you're about to."

The pronouncement made a lot of sense. It also made Draco very uneasy. "So… where exactly am I?" he finally asked.

"The In Between. Not exactly living, not exactly dead."

Fear of the unknown didn't help Draco's attitude. "Oh, that's a help," he scoffed. "Is this some sort of limbo that I've been stuck in?"

Professor Snape cleared his throat, looking as if he was trying not to glare at Draco's attitude. "Limbo yes, stuck no," he stated tersely. "When I leave here you will have decided, one way or another, what will happen to your body, the one you left back in Godric's Hollow."

As he began to understand his predicament, Draco's bluster fizzled out and he began to worry all over again. "I've been In Between before," he said in a small voice. "Six months ago after the Battle of Hogsmeade…"

"Yes, you were," Professor Snape agreed in a much kinder tone. "You were met by a colleague of mine, I believe. Do you remember who that was?"

Draco searched his memory and his eyes widened. "James Potter… Harry's dad! I remember now. We talked for what seemed like forever," he said incredulously. "He helped me decide that going back and making amends, or at least trying to, was worth all the pain and suffering I'd be going back to. He said I would be a better Slytherin if I channelled my ambition towards light rather than dark magic."

Professor Snape smiled. "He was correct, wasn't he?"

A little confused, Draco answered, "I really can't answer that, Professor. I didn't have much time to act on it, did I?"

Professor Snape pointed at Draco's arm. "Getting rid of your Dark Mark is proof enough for me," he said.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?"

In answer, the Headmaster reached under his chair for the basket he had put there. He held it out for Draco to see what it contained. Nestled in a bed of fabric was a bright golden sphere that looked quite like an overgrown Pigmy Puff. Its pulsing light bathed Draco in its warmth and he wondered what exactly it was.

"This is your soul, Draco," Professor Snape said reverently. "You can do one of two things with it. You can leave it in the basket and I will take it with us if you decide to go On, or you can take possession of it and go back to your body in Godric's Hollow."

"Why wasn't I shown my soul the last time?" Draco asked, feeling more than a little bewildered.

"James felt that your talk didn't warrant you seeing what your soul looked like at the time. He was fairly certain that you'd insist on trying to change as much as possible and want to go back. He was correct. You did go back and you did a great thing by convincing Blaise and Theo to join you in getting rid of your Dark Marks."

"I see. So what will my life be like if I choose to go On verses going back?" Draco asked.

Professor Snape gazed at Draco's soul as he said, "Let me ask you some questions."

"All right."

"What was your life's aim when you were on Earth before the Battle of Hogsmeade?"

Draco thought hard. "I didn't have one, sir," he finally admitted. "Unless it was to follow in my father's footsteps."

No comment was offered by Professor Snape. Instead, he asked, "Were you always nice, humble, loving and giving?"

Draco shook his head. The answer to that question was shamefully easy and he wasn't proud of what he was about to say. "No. I was a selfish and arrogant berk who delighted in seeing other people squirm."

Professor Snape nodded and then asked, "Will you accept the consequences of your past deeds without complaint for however long it will take you to make up for what you did?"

"Only if I have to," Draco answered uneasily.

The next question was easier to answer. "Why did you get rid of your Dark Mark?"

Draco smiled as he pulled up the sleeve of his pyjamas and looked at his empty forearm. "I decided that I wasn't willing to do the things Voldemort wanted me to do, even if it meant severe punishment or even death."

"How did you decide to do that?"

"Get rid of the Mark?"

Professor Snape nodded again.

"The things I talked about with Harry's dad, the fact that my father dominated me and censured my mother from the time I was little until he went to Azkaban, and the fact that I wanted to be different from who I was previously were what helped me decide. There was a part of me that didn't want to be afraid anymore, too."

"I see… Now, if you decide to go back, how will your life be different from what it was previously?" Professor Snape's eyes bore into him, but did not search his mind.

"I want a new start," Draco said with finality. "I want to prove that I can be better than what I was and I want to start by helping the people of Godric's Hollow or Hogsmeade recover from the damage done by the two battles. And I don't mean just throwing money at a community and then getting my name put on a building. There's a part of me that wants to be physically involved however I can be. It's not something my father would have done…" He trailed off for a moment, trying to phrase his next ideas.

"I'm going to try to be nicer to people that I wasn't nice to before," he said finally. Professor Snape raised an eyebrow, clearly asking for an explanation. It came easily to Draco who continued, "You see, Ginny Weasley was nice to me when I arrived at the Potter's crypt before the battle. She didn't have to be, but she was. Later on, Harry kept me and Blaze and Theo company after the others left and we actually had a real conversation for the first time since we met." Draco sighed. "Professor, I don't want to be the person I was my first five and a half years at Hogwarts. It's not who I am anymore."

Professor Snape stroked his chin for a moment before he said, "Commendable… and are you willing to accept censure and hardship because of how the Wizarding public views your family?"

Draco looked at the soul in the basket. "Will it get brighter if I go back and try to rectify things?"

"I don't know, Draco, because I myself have chosen to move On. I sacrificed my life so that Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley could live. I am now paying restitution for my past misdeeds and know only that one of my former rivals is the custodian of my soul. I don't know its colour or whether a soul can be repaired and become brighter. Draco, all we can do is try and hope that we can reverse a little of what we did earlier in life. So to answer your question, I can't tell you what you want to know."

Draco bowed his head. "Sir, I want to try," he admitted. "I want a second chance to start over again like I did six months ago. I'm willing to put up with the snubs and the censure and the bad press and maybe even the loss of places I grew up in, because in the end it's just stuff. And having a few good friends rather than a thousand side kicks or acquaintances means more to me right now than material possessions."

"It sounds as if you've made your decision," Professor Snape remarked, picking up the basket.

"It looks that way, doesn't it," Draco acknowledged. He gazed at his soul for several long moments, marvelling at its perfect shape and how its warm colour made him want to possess it again. He wanted it back for the simple reason that he could have sworn it was brighter now than it was when he first saw it. Looking back up at his former Head of House, Draco stated, "I want to go back. I want to go back even if it means giving up a lifestyle I find very comfortable."

Professor Snape held the basket closer to Draco. "Then you'll need this. Pick it up and hold it in both hands. It will know what to do."

Nervously, Draco lifted his soul out of the basket and brought it close to his body. He liked how it felt in his hands; warm and strong, maybe even strong enough to endure the pain and hardship he knew he must endure to start over again.

As he held it, his soul began to shrink just a bit and become noticeably brighter. Draco looked up at Professor Snape to find the Headmaster smiling at him, as if approving what Draco was doing. Then, without warning, Draco's soul floated away from his hands and towards his chest and with an audible _Pop_ took residence in Draco's body again.

Almost immediately, the room in Eastbourne began to fade to black. "Good-bye, Professor Snape, and thank you," Draco called just before all went black.

He awoke again to find himself inside his body, the one that had been torn apart by his father and left for dead. The pain was excruciating and he gasped when someone touched his side.

A startled voice called, "Madam Pomfrey, the potion is wearing off! Draco's waking up!"

"Praise Merlin for that!" the healer's voice exclaimed from across the room. "I thought we'd lost him."

The first voice sounded relieved as it said, "I thought so, too. How are Blaise and Theo?"

"Resting."

Footsteps brought someone in swishing skirts closer and a moment later he felt something drip into his mouth. Draco swallowed automatically and the pain dulled a bit. The relief was enough to allow him to open his eyes. Hovering over him were a large young man and Madam Pomfrey herself.

"Mr Malfoy, blink twice for yes, once for no," Madam Pomfrey directed. "Did the potion help the pain?"

Draco blinked twice.

"Is it bearable?"

Draco blinked once and a few drops more potion was administered.

"That's all I can give you for now," Madam Pomfrey told him, sounding regretful. She looked troubled as she added, "I'm sorry I can't take all the pain away."

She rose to leave and Draco did something he had never done in her presence before. He said thank you.

**End of Interlude**

**A/N:** This Interlude took me completely by surprise for I had not included it in my original outline. Anyway, I'd been reviewing what I'd written about Draco, Blaise and Theo in Chapters 28 and 29 and the more I thought about that part of the story, the more I wanted to know what happened from Draco's perspective. It was suddenly important to me to know the reasons he chose to come back over moving on and what his attitude would be once he recovered; especially since in one of her post-_Deathly Hallows_ interviews, JK Rowling states that Draco would have a grudging gratitude towards Harry for saving his life, but they would never be friends. In the case of this story, I felt it was important to know who talked Draco into trying to be a better person and oddly enough, I discovered it was both Ginny's acceptance of Draco and James Potter's pep talk that fuelled his desire to be a better man.

As always, I owe a debt of gratitude to Aggiebell for the quick beta for this interlude. She found the time to read it between family, work and musical obligations and I appreciate her comments and suggestions. Thanks, Aggiebell.

Finally, please let me know what you think of the chapter. I always write back and appreciate you taking the time to tell me your opinions.


	31. 30 Snitch's Rest

**Chapter 30: Snitch's Rest**

Harry regained consciousness very slowly. He took his time, discovering each of his senses as it occurred to him. Hearing came first, with an onslaught of sound that reached him from far and near. Close by, there were soft voices, concerned voices that helped him relax and realize that he did, indeed, exist. Farther away, there were sounds of rushing footsteps, the flap of great wings and the call of more voices that seemed to be pleading for help. He'd have to find out what was going on… but not right now…

Touch came next, with the awareness of his body and what he could feel. He discovered he was lying on a soft mattress with his head on an equally soft pillow, a pillow which was cradled in someone's lap. That same someone was stroking his forehead, but it wasn't Ginny; the hands were too big and the fingers weren't callused from holding onto a broomstick or a Quaffle. Instead, they were long and gentle and their motion soothed him. He sighed in relief that he had managed to save the girl he loved, content to lay where he was for a very long time.

"Harry?" The voice calling his name was low and melodious, as soothing as the hands were soft. "Harry? Are you awake, sweetheart?"

He knew instinctively who was with him. Without even opening his eyes he knew the voice and the lap and the hands belonged to his mother, Lily Potter. He breathed deeply, smelling ginger and nutmeg, the same scents he'd imagined that time she'd been with him in the cave. He opened his eyes and gazed into a pair of bright green eyes that were so like his. "Mum?"

The stroking stopped and a warm hand caressed his cheek.

"Mum, where am I?" Harry asked.

Lily smiled. "Where do you think you are, my darling?" she asked.

Harry raised himself onto his elbows and looked around. The walls of the room were a soft blue with fluffy white clouds scattered here and there. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a painted Snitch flitting lazily amongst the clouds. Harry knew he should know where he was, but his brain didn't seem to be working. "I'm not sure," he answered.

"Look closer. Maybe you'll understand," a new voice said, and Harry recognized the grey eyes and messy black hair of his father who smiled his greeting.

Harry focussed more closely on the room and discovered his surroundings had widened. Now he could see a braided rag rug, a bookcase crammed with books and an overflowing toy chest with a stuffed dragon on top. A toy broomstick leaned up against the frame of one of the doors on the opposite wall._ No, this can't be my room!_ he thought. Aloud, he asked, "Am I… are we… are we at the Potter Memorial?"

James Potter threw back his head and laughed. "Oh, good one, son!" he chortled. "Yes, we're in your room at Snitch's Rest. I say… you've chosen well. Welcome home, Harry!"

Still somewhat bewildered, Harry asked, "But how did I get here?"

His father looked thoughtful as he said, "Harry, you are In Between."

"In Between? Between what, exactly?" Harry asked. A disturbing thought crossed his mind. "You mean… between life… and death?"

"Yes, and your mother and I are here to help you make the decision of whether you go On or go back," his father said.

"I, I think I want to go on," Harry said quickly, but his mum held up her hand.

"Please, Harry, this is not a decision to make hastily. You must think about the reasons for going On and for going back very carefully. There are ramifications to both choices."

Harry lay back in her lap and closed his eyes, thinking hard. _What will happen if I choose to go On? _ He decided to ask his parents, who answered him truthfully.

His father said gravely, "If you choose to go On, then you leave your friends forever."

"Will I be with you?" Harry asked. "Will we be a family again?"

"Yes," his mother answered, "we will be a family again."

Harry didn't want to ask the next question, but he did so anyway. "And… what about the friends I leave behind?"

His father looked away. When he looked at Harry again, his face was sombre. "Most likely they will either be captured by Death Eaters and tortured, or killed outright for daring to defy Voldemort by taking up arms against him."

Harry watched a Snitch flutter lazily across the ceiling. "I was afraid of that," he said, sighing deeply. He was silent for a while. "And… and if I go back?"

A third voice answered the question; Professor Dumbledore had entered the room. The Headmaster looked much younger than Harry had ever seen him, and his eyes sparkled with anticipation. "There is a very good chance that you can fulfil the Prophecy, Harry," he said, coming to stand at the foot of Harry's bed. He conjured a plump armchair and sat down in it where Harry could see him. "At this moment Tom Riddle is discovering that something monumental has happened to him and his last Horcrux, the one he doesn't realize he made. He feels the pain, of course, but he does not yet know the extent of the damage or why he is hurting in the first place. If you choose to go back, there is a good chance that there will be peace in the Wizarding world."

Harry sat up completely and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Lily scooted over and put an arm around him, hugging him to her. They stayed like that, with Harry absorbing the motherly hug and committing it memory, realizing suddenly that he vaguely remembered her hugs from when he was tiny.

Finally, he pushed away from her and looked at Dumbledore. "I need to know more," he said.

They all looked up as someone knocked softly at the door. Automatically, Harry called, "Come in!" as Dumbledore murmured, "I think you're about to get your answers."

Lily smiled. "You're so like your father," she murmured, turning towards James. He winked back at her.

The door opened and everyone gathered about the bed looked up to see a hooded figure standing on the threshold, as if the person were asking permission to enter. As Harry groped about the bed for his wand and couldn't find it, Lily held out a hand, half-rising from her position beside him, her smile warm and inviting.

"Severus, it's so good to see you again," she said as he came in and closed the door. A note of sadness crept into her voice as she added, "I just wish your presence here hadn't come so soon."

Harry glanced at his dad, his eyes wide. "You're… she's… _friends_ with him?" This didn't make sense because Dumbledore's memories had indicated that in the end the two weren't friends at all.

James nodded, grinning. "Later," he mumbled in Harry's direction.

Professor Snape glanced down at the basket he was cradling in his arms as if it held something precious. "It was time, Lily," he said resignedly, a tone that was completely foreign to Harry's ears.

Snape pushed the hood from his head and crossed Harry's room to stop at the foot of the bed. "Where shall I put this?" he asked, gesturing to the basket.

Lily scooted away from Harry, making room between them, and patted the bed clothes. "Right here, Sev," she said. "Harry needs to see them."

Snape nodded stiffly. "Very well," he said and placed the basket between Harry and Lily.

Harry stared at the contents of the basket. He had never seen anything so fascinating in his life, not even Voldemort's Horcruxes. Nestled in the folds of the basket's lining were several over-sized Pigmy Puff-shaped objects that pulsed and glowed with an inner energy unlike anything he had ever experienced. He was drawn to what he saw and repulsed by the sight at the same time. He wanted to reach out and touch the orbs, but nearly seven years of magical training stopped him; he had no wand and to touch an unknown substance would possibly be deadly. Instead, he visually inspected each ball as carefully as he could.

There were four spheres in all, each a different size, shape and color. The first was shriveled, blackened and burned-looking and Harry determined that if he touched it even the slightest, it would disintegrate into dust. The second wasn't much of a sphere at all, but misshapen as if large chunks had been torn from it. Its color repulsed him; the muddy, greenish-black color looked sickly and weak to him. Harry quickly glanced away to gaze on another orb that seemed to be in the process of regenerating; it had been a deep, dull red when Snape had first put the basket down and now it had begun to mutate, changing to brighter shades of red and red-orange as he watched it. For some reason, Harry felt hope for whatever this spherical thing was and he wished it could go on changing and brightening.

As if he had used Legilimency on him, Snape voiced Harry's thoughts as he said, "It's changing! How?"

Lily reached up and took Snape's hand. "Sev, listen to me. I know you're going to deny what I have to say, but deep down you know it's true." She paused, waiting for him to look at her. When he did, she continued, "You've always loved your true friends with all your heart. You loved me. You even loved my son."

Snape glanced at Harry, his face unreadable, and Lily continued. "Thank you for helping him, Severus."

Snape squeezed Lily's hand, but levelled his gaze at James. "I'm not sure how much I helped. I let my prejudices rule my heart more than I should have, I admit."

James cleared his throat. "No matter what you did in the other life, how you conducted yourself, you're doing marvellous things now, Severus. The new arrivals you've spoken with are having an easier time choosing."

Snape raised an eyebrow a fraction. "I see," he murmured.

Dumbledore said, "Those you are helping to move On or decide to go back are helping you, too. I know you are helping everyone, not just the Slytherins."

As Snape watched a Snitch flit between the painted clouds, Lily asked, "Has your young friend chosen? He was here only six months ago, I remember." She looked at her husband. "You were the one who greeted him, weren't you?"

James nodded gravely.

"You mean Draco?" Snape asked.

Harry's eyes widened in shock, feeling a sudden uncontrollable sadness. _Draco Malfoy is dead? I know he was hurt badly, but with the right spell, Madam Pomfrey could mend him… Ginny was right… Lucius Malfoy's spell was deadlier than it looked! _Dudley had promised to do all he could to for Draco, Blaze and Theo. He had promised to keep them alive… The news that the three other boys were here in the In Between saddened Harry greatly and he listened intently to the rest of Snape's answer.

"He's decided to go back. He wants his life to be much different than what it has been, but he has a very difficult road ahead of him, as do Nott and Zabini."

James looked at Harry as he commented, "Draco's strong, as are his friends. I'm glad they've decided to go back. Draco's life will be less complicated now that Lucius has passed on." He paused, then asked, "And what of the traitor?"

Snape's lip curled. "Peter Pettigrew has gone On, although he has much to atone for… Just as I have…"

"Severus, you know I'll speak for you. So will James. After all you've done for Harry… that has to count for something," Lily said quietly.

"I wouldn't count on it," Snape said, looking uncomfortable.

James said, "Severus, we may not have seen eye to eye while we were living, but you protected my son all those years, kept him safe, kept him whole. Thank you."

The two men eyed each other as Snape said, "I did what was right, not what was easy."

Harry glanced at Dumbledore; the headmaster's eyes were twinkling.

"I know it wasn't easy, nor is it easy now, helping people from Houses other than Slytherin make their decisions," James added, "but you've been doing good things since you arrived. The proof is there in that basket. If you wish, when our work here is done, Lily and I want you to join us. We'll stay with you as you cross over."

Startled, Snape cleared his throat and then stared directly at James for a long time as if trying to decide something. Finally, he said gruffly, "I have students to attend to." He turned and walked back to door, only to pause with his hand on the knob. "Thank you, James. I'll see you shortly."

As the door closed on the Potions Master, Harry looked round at the adults gathered with him. _They talked of regeneration, of change… of watching over me! Snape is helping others to decide… Mum and Dad will stay with him because of his work… Am I—am I looking at… _Harry shook his head in disbelief, then turned his attention to the final sphere in the basket.

It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Pure white and emitting a dazzling light, it reminded Harry of a miniature sun. It seemed to call to him… _Mine? Whoa!_

"Mum, Dad, Professor," he asked, "am I looking at… people's… _souls?_"

Lily glanced up at James, who nodded. "Yes, Harry, these are four very different souls." She pointed to the blackest of the four. "I believe that is the Horcrux that Lord Voldemort destroyed just moments ago."

Harry stared at what was left of the Horcrux. "That—that was inside me? The thing Voldemort killed?" he asked finally.

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly. "You carried a piece of Voldemort's soul around inside you for sixteen years and have done very well to bring it to this state. I know it was very difficult for you to throw away your wand and sacrifice yourself for Ginny Weasley."

Harry shook his head. "No, Professor, it wasn't a hard decision at all. I sacrificed myself so that the girl I love can have a full life, even if I'm not there to share it with her."

A tear trickled down Lily's cheek as she murmured, "Oh, Harry, you've grown up so much." She stroked his cheek and Harry looked away, fidgeting with the bedclothes.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Watch carefully and you will see what happened to all the other pieces of Voldemort's soul when you destroyed the other Horcruxes," he said, drawing their attention back to the basket of souls. Something was happening to the Horcrux.

The ugly, burned-looking sphere suddenly had begun to shudder as a thin, desperate wail emitted from its depths. As the cry ended, the remnant of soul began to wither and slowly turn to ash that eventually dissipated into nothingness.

Harry stared at the indentation in the basket lining where the Horcrux had been. "That's it?" he asked. "You mean the piece of Voldemort's soul that was inside me is gone? Gone forever?"

His parents nodded as Dumbledore said, "Yes, Harry, it's gone forever."

Harry slumped in relief. "Then, I'm free of him? Really and truly free of Voldemort?"

James patted his shoulder. "Absolutely, son. Your connection has been severed. If you choose to go back to duel Voldemort to the death, there is a very good chance that you will win."

Harry turned and looked at his father. "I like those odds, Dad," he said smiling. Then he frowned and turned his attention to the three remaining souls in the basket.

Pointing to the sickly, repulsive soul he asked, "This one, this is really Voldemort's?"

"You are correct, Harry," Dumbledore stated quietly. "That is what is left of Tom Riddle; it is the piece of soul remaining in his body. It is what he has become. If he is revived from his present stupor, that sphere will go to him. Otherwise, when he passes On, it will shrivel and die just as the Horcrux did."

Harry was quiet for a time. He stared at the two remaining souls, equally fascinated by both. The one Professor Snape had been talking to his parents about kept changing, getting brighter and becoming lighter in color at a slow, steady pace.

Finally, Harry voiced the question that was utmost in his mind. "If that soul is Professor Snape's, is he making amends for all the Dark magic he used during his lifetime on others?"

Lily reached out and caressed Professor Snape's sphere. "Yes, Harry, he is. It takes a great deal of courage to do what he is doing at the moment, what he did after James and I died. Severus felt he was unloved, possibly betrayed by me, for a very long time after I married your father. He became a Death Eater, thinking he would gain the respect and power he longed for as a child. All he found when he joined Voldemort, though, was more hatred and fear in a different form. However, he has conquered those feelings. When I met him at the door not too long ago I knew he was feeling remorse for the crimes he had committed, that he still loved me, even after all these years, and that with Professor Dumbledore's help he had transferred some of that love to you."

"He _loved _me?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yes, Harry, he did love you, even though he knew you were my son, the son of his worst nightmare at Hogwarts," James said, a sheepish smile gracing his features.

"If he loved me, how come he didn't treat me better? Or treat the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs as Slytherin's equals?" Harry asked.

James looked away towards the door. "It's very complicated, Harry. Severus is a complex man who is a product of a very complicated existence, one filled with loathing, self-deprecation and decisions hastily made at the spur of the moment when he was the most vulnerable."

"Sev had an atrocious childhood," Lily added. "His parents neglected him horribly and when they did give him their attention, it was often very negative. He boarded the Hogwarts Express the year we were eleven with only one friend, me, and when we were Sorted into different Houses, my positive influence was greatly diminished and he eventually fell in with the Death-Eaters-to-be."

Remembering what he had seen in the Pensieve, Harry commented, "Even his years at Hogwarts weren't the happy time he thought they would be."

"You are absolutely right, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Sometimes students are given the short shrift by the Sorting Hat and unfortunately, Severus Snape was one of those. I deeply regret what happened to him, what he felt he had to become, but when he showed me that he was still capable of great love, I was willing to take the chance and appoint him first Potions Master and then Head of Slytherin House."

Puzzled, Harry asked, "But how does that explain why Professor Snape's soul is regenerating and Voldemort's is not?"

Dumbledore fidgeted with the sleeves of his robes. "I think all the good deeds he is performing here in the In Between—helping new arrivals decide whether to continue living on Earth or whether to go On—are negating deeds he did when he was alive. I don't think his soul will ever be truly pristine, but it will eventually reflect his efforts at reconciliation and the great love he had for your mother and in turn, you."

Harry didn't know what to think. The wizard he'd know at Hogwarts was so different from the man he'd seen just minutes ago. That his parents liked and trusted him was nearly incomprehensible to Harry. Then something else finally registered in Harry's stunned brain: Severus Snape had taken the Killing Curse meant for Ginny at the same time Harry had tried to take it; Severus Snape had tried to protect them both! The idea that someone who had cultivated only loathing and ill-will during the time of their acquaintance could be capable of such great sacrifice was overwhelming. _Maybe he really_ did _love me!_ Harry thought.

Finally, Harry found his voice. "This… changes a lot," he said.

"What do you mean, Harry?" Lily asked.

Harry couldn't look at the three adults. "All through school Professor Snape was the one teacher I could never, ever like. And now I find out that he might have been protecting and even _loving_ me all this time," he said, shaking his head.

"Harry, Professor Snape did more than protect just you," Lily said softly. "He watched over the girl you love, gave her a place to suffer in private."

Harry's head whipped around to stare at his mum. "What… what do you mean by that?"

"When we were captured, all your belongings were at the castle," Dumbledore explained. "Hedwig was there in your room, too. When Professor McGonagall realized that, she sealed the portrait and the entrance from the Gryffindor Tower common room until Severus was appointed headmaster. No one was allowed in until Miss Weasley needed a place away from the rest of the school to rest during the day. You see, when you cried out while you were in the water room, you projected your suffering to her."

"Oh, Merlin!" Harry whispered. "I had no idea."

"Professor Snape kept the Death Eaters and Dementors away from your suite in Gryffindor Tower so that Miss Weasley could have some privacy," Dumbledore continued. "She was the only student besides Hermione Granger who had access to that room."

Harry looked at his mother. "Why didn't Ginny ever tell me any of this?" he asked.

"I can only speculate, Harry, but I think she wanted to spare you the embarrassment of knowing that she shared your daily misery," Lily said.

Harry shuddered, images of his captivity flashing across his mind. He glanced at Professor Snape's soul, which was now beginning to glow a steady bright orange. "I have a lot to thank him for," he said quietly.

"I know you do, son," James said, coming to sit on Harry's other side. "But I don't think now is the time." He reached across Harry and picked up the bright orb and held it in front of them. "Look at it, Harry. Look at the vitality, the promise, the _goodness_ of your soul! There's so much courage and love here; it's the soul of a true Gryffindor. You have so much yet to do with it, Harry!"

Harry squinted at the brightly glowing soul. If he were honest with himself, the orb his father held scared him. "I'm not that brave, Dad," he murmured.

"You can be if you let your friends stand with you," Lily said, her hand beginning to rub small comforting circles on Harry's back. "They love you and know you love them back. Let that love make you brave, Harry, for love is so much stronger than the hate Voldemort uses to fuel his quest for immortality. Voldemort is suffering right now because he's feeling your friends' pain at your death as well as the death of his Horcrux. He doesn't understand why, though."

"Harry, all the Horcruxes are gone," Dumbledore said, joining in. "The majority of your work is done. Do you not want to see it through to the end?"

A big sigh escaped Harry and again, his gaze focused on the two souls. _What do I want to do?_ he asked himself. Now that he was with his parents, the pull to stay was strong, but if he admitted it to himself, the pull to go back, to be with his friends, to live the life he wanted for himself in a Voldemort-free world, that pull was so much stronger. He truly wanted to see the war to its end.

Looking at the three adults, he said in a tiny voice, "I want to go back."

To his surprise, his parents and Dumbledore broke into smiles, even as tears coursed down Lily's cheeks. They were _pleased_ with his decision!

"Then you'll need this, son," James said, handing the soul to Harry.

He took it in his hands, awed at the life pulsing within the glowing sphere. It felt warm and welcoming to his touch. It filled him with the desire to live, to love, to… be.

The shining sphere began to shrink, reminding him of a star just before it exploded as a super nova, its light becoming more intense with each passing second. When it became roughly the size of a Snitch, it levitated away from his hands and began floating towards his body. Then, it was gone, absorbed into his chest, and his room at Snitch's Rest began to fade around the edges.

Lily was the first to embrace him. "We will be with you, Harry," she said, holding him tight for a brief moment before she pulled away and laid her hand over his heart, on the place where his soul had disappeared. "Right here."

James hugged him next. "Make us proud, son," he said. "And don't let your fiery little ginger-haired witch get away!"

Harry had to laugh at this. "I won't," he said, looking over his dad's shoulder at his mum. "I promise."

Finally, as the walls with their clouds and flying Snitches faded away completely, Dumbledore reached over and grabbed one of Harry's hands with both of his. Drawing close, the old wizard said, "Take care of Gwenyn for me. Fill that old house with your children, Harry. Show Voldemort that love will always conquer hate in every way you can." Then, as the room and his parents disappeared completely, Dumbledore whispered Voldemort's location in Harry's ear. The last thing he remembered was Dumbledore's fingers slipping through his.

Harry was now alone.

**End of Chapter 30**

**A/N: **I need to beg forgiveness. Usually, I'm quite the canon purist, but upon completing this chapter I discovered that my notion of what the souls in the basket look like is based on what we see in the PoA movie. That said, I also had to laugh at my idea of Snape bringing in the basket Red Riding Hood-style, as if he's bringing a basket of sweets to Harry instead of something so precious as his own soul.

I send heart-felt thanks to my beta, Aggiebell, who beta-ed this chapter around work, family activities and a busy choir rehearsal schedule. I sincerely appreciate her finding the time to look over these last chapters; she's as eager to see how the tale plays out as anyone… she just gets to see them before everyone else!

As for you, my readers, thank you so very much for all the kind comments you take the time to send me. Your reviews mean a lot and give me purpose for finishing my project. I promise to write back in a timely manner.


	32. 31 Grief

**Chapter 31: Grief**

Ginny was angry. Harry had lied to her. He had promised he would do his best to stay alive, that he wouldn't do anything stupid like throw himself in front of a Killing Curse meant for someone else… for her!

She loved Harry so much and now he was gone. Ron must have sensed her distress, because he held her tightly as they both stood crying next to Harry's body. Eventually, the flow of tears subsided and she was able to focus on what was going on in the square. She didn't like what she saw.

Just a few minutes ago, the Godric's Hollow village square had been filled with Death Eaters, Hogwarts students, Order members, and villagers, all staring at the two bodies. And then the Death Eaters had closed ranks around their master. Now, it seemed, most of them were departing from the square, taking off their black robes and masks and trying to melt into the crowd, leaving only a very few to guard Voldemort.

As the Death Eaters edged further into the crowd, someone yelled, "Don't let them get away!" and the village square erupted into chaos once more.

Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Neville reacted automatically, pulling their wands and standing guard over Harry's body. They threw up shields in reaction to the spells directed their way as Ron said urgently, "We're too exposed here. Harry's too exposed. He can't stay here forever."

"I agree," Neville said as he cast a Leg Locker Curse that sent a Death Eater sprawling. Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped forward out of the crowd, easily Disarmed the Death Eater and bound him hand and foot. He threw Neville a grim smile as he bewitched his victim and melted back into the crowd of duellers with him.

Hermione sounded worried as she said, "The Death Eaters know we're guarding Harry's body. They're going to come after it. I just know it."

"Calm down, Hermione. Nothing's going to hurt Harry if I can help it," Ginny growled and began scanning the square for a place to hide Harry's body. She refused to believe that Harry was truly gone. Somehow she knew he was barely alive, holding tenuously to life by the thinnest of threads, but alive all the same; she had felt the momentary flicker as Voldemort's spell hit him and both his body and his magic had responded to its intensity. However, she could still feel him responding faintly through their connection whenever she tried to contact him and that was proof enough for her. _I can't tell the others, though,_ she decided, _and I have to act as if I believe Harry is dead._ That was the most important part of the deception, she knew, for if anyone else thought there was a possibility that Harry wasn't dead, things could get ugly very quickly.

So she wept softly, all the while trying to come up with a way to get further proof that Harry was alive. Then she remembered Harry's pendant. There was something about it that might help her prove to herself that Harry was only unconscious. She wracked her brain, trying to remember what the old book had said about death, but came up with absolutely nothing as a spell nearly crumbled her shield.

Hermione grabbed Ginny's sleeve and pointed towards a sheltered spot on the side of little church that was concealed behind some shrubbery. Ron saw where she was pointing and said, "Good work, Hermione."

She smiled sadly as the boys lifted their friend between them and carried Harry's body to the spot she had chosen.

"Someone's sure to find him," wailed Ginny as she fought her way into the small space. "I don't want to leave him here."

Hermione smiled mischievously, causing Ginny to raise an eyebrow at her. "Neither do I, but maybe this will help," she said. And from the depths of her bum bag she brought out Harry's Invisibility Cloak. "Harry thought this might come in handy."

Ginny hugged her. "You think of everything," she sniffed.

"At least he'll be harder to find," Neville commented.

Hermione shook out the cloak and started to throw it over Harry's body. Ginny stopped her. "Hang on, Hermione. He needs his wand," she said, bending down and curling Harry's fingers around the handle of his wand, the one that had been forced into her hand when she had lost her own. She crossed his arms over his chest as she'd seen Egyptian pharaohs posed. "There. He looks like one of the mummies Bill showed us that summer," she said, adjusting Harry's glasses so that they sat straight on his face.

"What's he need his wand for?" Ron asked as Ginny retrieved her wand from Harry's pocket. "He's dead."

Ginny scowled at Ron. "Bill told us that the Egyptians always buried their dead with tools they could use in the afterlife, remember?" Ginny said, feeling somewhat annoyed. "Harry's a wizard, his wand's his tool. He'll need it wherever he's going." Her voice broke on the last words and she fought to control her emotions. She needed to stay focused. There would be time for mourning Harry later if her suspicions proved incorrect.

Neville had been peering through the bushes periodically and he now urged, "Cover him quickly and let's get out of here before we're discovered."

With a final good-bye, Hermione covered Harry's body with the Cloak and tucked it in around him. When she stood up, tears were rolling down her cheeks again. Ron stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms. Ginny stood at Harry's feet watching her brother and best friend comfort each other, holding in her grief and her hope and wondering why she couldn't let it go.

Suddenly, Harry's words came back to her. _I want it back later when I'll need it most. _ This was later! Maybe Harry _was_ only temporarily knocked out…

Quickly checking to see that the others weren't paying attention, Ginny crept over and uncovered Harry's body just enough to find his empty left hand. As fast as she could without attracting the others' attention, she removed Harry's pendant from her pocket, wrapped the chain around his hand and closed his fingers over the phoenix; the necklace faded from view as she settled his hand back in place. She smiled; the invisibility spell on the necklace only worked on the living, just as Harry's Invisibility Cloak did. There was still hope that Harry was alive… Looking over her shoulder, Ginny hastily rearranged the Cloak until it completely hid Harry—obtaining further proof that her boyfriend was still living—and then went to stand next to Neville who seemed to be doing his best to hold in his sorrow.

"I can't believe he's gone," Neville sniffed. "Why would Harry do such a thing?"

Ginny put an arm around his waist. "Harry loved those who were important to him. He threw himself in front of that curse so that there was a chance of someone fulfilling the Prophecy if he couldn't. He only took that bloody thing to heart because Voldemort forced him to," she growled.

"Damned Prophecy," echoed Neville as he put his arm around Ginny's shoulders. "Voldemort should have chosen me…" he added under his breath so that only Ginny heard him.

"If it had been you, we'd be standing here just like we are for Harry," she said, looking up at him.

"I know," he said, returning her gaze. "Thanks for reminding me."

The four friends finally exited their hiding place, only to be confronted with the sight of Professor Snape's body, still lying near Voldemort. Although there were groups of fighters duelling in close proximity to the body, no one seemed to want to take responsibility for it. Ginny heard Ron groan audibly and understood immediately how he felt.

"What should we do with Snape?" Ron asked no one in particular. "No one's bothering to move him."

"We can't leave him there," Neville said. "Someone's sure to step on him."

"Wouldn't be much different than what we've been doing to some of the other dead," Hermione remarked, looking bothered. She moved closer to Ron.

Ginny raised an eyebrow but couldn't get the other girl's attention, so she began scanning the area next to the church. She found a spot she thought had potential and pointed it out to the others. The hiding place was just inside the wrought iron fence that surrounded the graveyard. Dense bushes, still thick with leaves, flanked the kissing gate. With their heavy layer of snow they provided an ideal hiding spot.

"That'll do," Ron sighed. "I'll get him," he said grimly. He strode over to the body and hoisted it onto his shoulder in a fireman's lift, staggering under its weight. In no time the headmaster's body was concealed from view and Ginny and the others turned their attention back to Voldemort who was now flanked by only seven of his followers. He seemed to be stirring.

The Death Eaters looked suddenly relieved. As one, they nodded and with the four friends watching, the masked man standing at Voldemort's head grabbed him under the armpits and Disapparated. Two more followed immediately, leaving the rest to raise their wands and engage Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Neville in a fierce one-on-one duel.

**oOo**

It had started to snow some time ago. Ginny was once again by herself, duelling fiercely with a Death Eater whose hood had fallen off, revealing him to be a Slytherin in her year, when she felt a change and a questioning catch of breath come across her connection with Harry. She smiled to herself and sent one of her Bat Bogey Hexes at her opponent whose defences faltered and collapsed as the powerful spell found its mark. The boy dropped his wand and ran away, clawing at his face and trying to rid himself of the horrible bat wings. Ginny stooped to pick up his wand, pocketing it as she whirled to defend herself against another attacker.

"That wand isn't yours," Millicent Bulstrode said accusingly as she approached Ginny.

"No, it isn't, but it's proof that Garrett Jackson was fighting for Voldemort, so as soon as I can find an Auror, it's going to him," Ginny stated firmly. As she said this, she felt Harry sit up beneath the Invisibility Cloak and take stock of his situation. He seemed pleased to be holding his own wand and his phoenix pendant.

"We'll see about that," Millicent growled menacingly. She raised her wand and fired a hex, catching Ginny's right shoulder with it. She laughed gleefully as Ginny cried out in pain and clapped a hand over the laceration. However, that was the last Millicent smiled, for Ginny was now angry enough to send a stream of hexes at her that was nearly impossible to block. The slower witch finally just threw up her hands in defeat and lumbered away without firing another spell at Ginny.

_Who'd you just beat?_ The question coming through their link startled Ginny a little and she stopped trying to apply pressure to the cut on her shoulder.

_Harry? Harry, I thought you were dead! _ Ginny cried as blood began running down her arm again. _Why did you jump in front of that spell?_

_Later. Heal that cut as best you can and then find cover. I need you to tell me what's going on in the square,_ Harry directed her.

Ginny hid behind the Muggle post box near the solicitor's office. It wasn't a very good hiding place, but at least she was sheltered better than she would be in a doorway. Crouching down, she tore off her jumper and the ruined sleeve of her blouse to get a better look at her shoulder. The laceration didn't look as bad as it felt, although it was still bleeding copiously. With a sigh, Ginny transferred her wand to her left hand and pointed it at her shoulder as she began talking to Harry again.

_Voldemort was hurt after you took his spell,_ she told him.

Harry seemed surprised. _He went down? What did he do?_ he interrupted.

_He clutched at his chest and began screaming,_ Ginny answered. _Then he fainted. He came to only a short time ago and then the Death Eaters took him away._

She felt Harry smile. _Interesting… So he feels the deaths of his Horcruxes… He must know there are none left now… What's happening now?_

Ginny scanned the square as she tried a mildly successful healing spell on her shoulder. _The Death Eaters tried to escape after Voldemort collapsed, _she reported. _Our side is now trying to find them. There are still a lot of duels going on, though._

_And the DA?_ Harry asked.

_Disbursed,_ Ginny reported. _Scattered all over the square, the graveyard and down the side streets… erm… Fred and George are around the corner of the church from you… Hermione and Luna are just coming back from the school… Neville and Ron are duelling separate Death Eaters by the bandstand… A couple of Hufflepuffs and some of the Order are still fighting in the cemetery… _A chilling laugh suddenly caught Ginny's attention and she gasped, _Oh, no! Ron's down!_

She felt Harry's acute distress and concern as he asked, _Is he… do you think…?_

_No, he's moving around a bit… Oh, Merlin, RON! The Cruciatus Curse! _Ginny cried as Ron's screams rent the air. _ Harry, I need to help him!_

_Stay where you are! _Harry ordered as the Death Eater lifted the spell and watched Ron collapse. _You're hurt. _

_I can't _not_ help Ron,_ Ginny protested. _No one's defending him, Harry! Neville's too busy with his own Death Eater and the others haven't noticed yet!_

Harry didn't say anything for a moment. He seemed to be thinking. Then, he said, _I can see Fred and George now, Ginny. Contact them. They could help Ron. Do they have their DA coins? _

_Yes._

_Good. Send them a message. They should be there shortly._

_All right, _Ginny sighed. She dug in her pocket and took out the coin. The movement caused her barely healed shoulder to open up again. Ignoring the pain, she quickly sent a message to her brothers who Apparated to her side. She pointed to Ron and Fred sprinted across the square to where the Death Eater was torturing Ron again. George knelt next to her, his expression serious.

"Ginnykins," he began, using his childhood nickname for her. "You won't heal yourself very well like that. Let me do it. It's time you started collecting on all the times you patched up Fred and me when we were kids."

Despite her concern for Ron, Ginny chuckled wryly. "I can't think of a better time than now, Georgie," she admitted with a smirk, as George siphoned the blood from her arm and began closing the wound. Over his shoulder, Ginny watched Fred throw something onto Ron's body. He disappeared as if by Portkey as Fred turned to engage the startled Death Eater. The next moment, the two were fiercely trading spells, the likes of which Ginny hadn't seen before.

George hastily finished healing Ginny's shoulder, dried her jumper for her and stood up to go help Fred. "I'll be right back, Ginnykins," he called over his shoulder as he left.

Ginny dressed quickly so she could join in, too, but by the time she was ready, her brothers had overpowered Ron's assailant and were back at her side.

"That was fun," Fred commented mordantly. Turning to Ginny he asked, "You doing all right?"

"All fixed up," George cut in smugly.

"Will Ron be all right?" Ginny asked.

"He should be. That Portkey took him directly to the school," Fred said quietly.

"Was he hurt badly?"

"Couldn't tell," Fred answered.

"Oh." Then, she added, "Hermione needs to know." Ginny stuck her head around the post box to look for her friend. What she saw made her groan. A group of five or six Death Eaters had Apparated into the square and were quickly advancing on the three Weasley's hiding place.

Inside her head, Harry asked in alarm, _What's happening?_

Ginny only had time to send back _Ambush!_ before she focused on helping Fred and George duel the newcomers.

"_Protego!_" she yelled as two Death Eaters sent balls of purple light towards her and George.

"Uh oh," Fred said, pointing. "Ron's wand. He must have dropped it."

Ginny followed his finger. Ron's wand lay where he'd fallen.

"Be right back," Fred said, and before Ginny and George could protest, he'd Apparated across the square and scooped up Ron's discarded wand.

"Idiot," George muttered, making Ginny scowl.

Fred came sprinting back, felling one Death Eater before he Disapparated to avoid being hit himself. He reappeared in back of Ginny and George and stuck his wand between their heads, firing his own spell, and causing angry red welts to appear on one of their opponent's faces. The man yelled in pain and began clawing at his face. His companions shoved him aside and returned fire.

Even though the post box provided a modicum of protection, it also was a bit of a hindrance for someone as short as Ginny who had to lean around it or stand on tiptoe to fire spells over its top. Besides, the box was only wide enough to truly protect one person, so two of the three were always somewhat exposed.

"I can't get a good shot in," Ginny complained after several minutes of dodging the box. "I'm sick of being short."

"You'll be alright out in the open?" Fred asked as a Death Eater tried to slip round to his left. His jinx missed wide left, but still caused the Death Eater to retreat a few steps.

"Yes, I'll be fine," Ginny assured him grumpily, and without further thought, she dashed forward, taking both her brothers and the Death Eaters by surprise. As she sprinted through the space between two black robed figures she fired a Bat Bogie Hex and a Stunning Spell, effectively disabling the men.

"Way to go, Ginny!" George called as he and Fred followed her through the gap, their own wand tips leaking spells of different colours.

"Oh, no, you don't, you little bint!" another Death Eater cried.

Ginny and George whirled in the direction of the voice and threw up shields as the Death Eater cast the Cruciatus Curse at them. The spell went wide to the right, and even though George and Ginny were unscathed, it hit Fred squarely in the back. He dropped to the pavement, screaming and writhing in pain.

"FRED!" George hollered. He dashed ahead of Ginny a few steps before he thought better of his actions and came back to stand next to his sister.

It seemed to Ginny that her brother's screams were twice as incapacitating as any other hex or jinx she'd ever encountered. Her mind was completely blank and it appeared that George was suffering the same way. However, instead of standing frozen like Ginny was, he now launched himself at the Death Eater and hit him with a solid punch that lifted the man several feet into the air. The spell ended abruptly and while George continued to pound away, Ginny knelt next to Fred, frantically calling his name.

"Fred, Fred! Can you hear me?" she cried, her voice shaking with fear.

Fred groaned and tried to raise his head. "Help… George," he gasped. "… fine." And Ginny knew he was right.

"All right," she said reluctantly. "Stay here and play dead."

"Easy…" Fred managed to get out. "Go."

With a small nod and a huge lump in her throat, Ginny stood and surveyed the scene before her. George and the Death Eater were still throwing punches at each other and for some reason the other Death Eaters were just standing about watching the fight.

Ginny aimed carefully and cast her first Stunning spell at the nearest black robe. He dropped with a heavy splash into a puddle of slushy snow. _One down, four to go,_ Ginny thought, taking aim again. Her next spell was just as successful and she zeroed in on a third victim.

"Cast that spell and your brother's dead," a cold, cruel voice rasped in her ear.

Ginny froze. _Which brother?_ she wondered absently. She had two in close proximity.

"Lower your wand and lay it on the ground."

Slowly, Ginny did as she was told. When her wand lay in the snow in front of her, she chanced a glance behind her. The welt-faced Death Eater stood with his wand trained Fred, his eyes on her.

"That's better," the Death Eater snarled.

Gathering her courage, Ginny challenged, "Let my brother go!"

The Death Eater appeared to consider this. "And what will you let me do to you if I let him go?" he snarled.

Ginny trembled all over as she nearly whispered, "Kill me instead! I'm Harry Potter's girlfriend and my boyfriend is dead! I can't live without him!"

_Ginny, what are you doing? Don't do this! I need you!_ Harry cried desperately in her head.

Ginny ignored Harry's plea, instead focussing on the Death Eater.

The welt-faced Death Eater smiled evilly and slowly swung his wand towards her. "Is that so?" he asked, looking quite pleased with himself. He leered at her with eyes that were nearly swollen shut. "Well, maybe I will and maybe I won't. Gotta find out what you're worth. Hey, Wilber!" he called to one of the other men in black robes. "This one says she's Potter's girlfriend. Do we take her or can I kill her?"

Panic sluiced through Ginny, but she stood her ground as Wilber answered, "Well, if she's Potter's _real _girlfriend, we'd better take her to the Dark Lord."

Welt-face walked over to Ginny. He poked at her with his wand, making her wince. "What if she's using Polyjuice?"

A motion to Ginny's left caught her attention and she swung her eyes in that direction: George had bested his opponent and was now sneaking past the Death Eaters who held her to where Fred lay. She could see that he had a Portkey out and ready to activate, so she kept still, hoping fervently that she could fool the Death Eaters standing in front of her.

"She isn't," Wilber said, walking over as well. He glanced down at Fred. "Look who she's got with her? This one and his twin own that joke shop in Diagon. Well, let's see who's joking now? We got three of them Weasley brats."

Welt-face chuckled malevolently. He swung his wand like a pendulum between Fred and Ginny, muttering, "Which one? Which one?"

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

The spell emitted from Wilber's wand took the three Weasley's by surprise. Fred didn't even have time to react before the spell struck him in the chest and sending him sliding back a few feet.

"FRED!" Ginny shrieked. "NO! NOT FRED!"

George yelled, "_Stupefy!_" hitting Wilber in the back as Ginny dove for her wand and Harry yelled in her head, _BE CAREFUL!_

The next few minutes were a blur to Ginny as she and George fought and eventually subdued the two Death Eaters. Then, through eyes nearly blinded with tears, she and George activated his Portkey and took Fred to the school where they laid him next to Colin Creevey.

"We have to tell Mum and Dad and the others," George murmured woodenly as he and Ginny stood holding each other at Fred's feet, both unwilling to leave their brother.

A large hand gently squeezing Ginny's shoulder made her jump and look around for the owner. A sad-looking Dudley Dursley stood behind them, his clothes more rumpled and blood-splattered than when she'd seen him last.

"He'll be fine right here," Dudley assured them. "I'm keeping an eye on everyone we place here. I… I'm sorry."

Tears coursed down Ginny's cheeks as she turned and included him in her hug. "Thank you," she managed to whisper before waves of grief overtook her and she crumpled against George. The two boys held her until her tears subsided and she felt them step back.

"We need to tell the others," George said again. Ginny nodded and they turned to leave.

"I'm sorry," Dudley said again, looking concerned.

Ginny squeezed his bicep as she passed him on her way out the door. "Thanks."

A moment later, she had Apparated back to the graveyard gate where she spotted George talking to her parents. As she watched, her mum's face crumpled and she sagged into her husband who caught George up in a family hug. They stood huddled together as spells zipped past and people duelled all around them, while Ginny searched frantically for her other siblings. When at last she had rounded them all up and sent them to meet the others at the school, she rejoined the battle, though her heart really wasn't in it.

Her only comfort was Harry's voice in her head, the one thing she clung to because only she knew he was alive and truly aware of her grief.

**oOo**

_Ginny? Ginny!_ Harry's voice was sorrowful. _Meet me at the vault in two minutes._

_All right,_ Ginny answered half-heartedly and she Disapparated, leaving a bewildered opponent behind.

When she arrived at the Potter vault, Harry let her in and held her close, rubbing soothing little circles on her back. They were both crying.

Eventually, Harry kissed the top of her head, causing her look up. "Was it awful?" he asked. "Did Fred suffer?"

Ginny shook her head, unable to speak. Finally, she managed, "He'd been Cruciated. It… it… was so sudden… there was no time." And she began to cry again.

"Oh Ginny, I'm so sorry he's gone," Harry choked. It was a long time before they left the vault.

**oOo**

Several hours later, during a lull in the fighting in which the villagers began collecting the injured and the dead, Voldemort appeared in the Godric's Hollow village square. He looked a bit piqued and was flanked on both sides by a multitude of Death Eaters. Ginny and Harry watched the procession from their hiding place in the bell tower of the church as the Dark Lord progressed across the square towards the bandstand.

"It looks as if he's going to make an announcement," Ginny murmured.

"Let's get closer," Harry suggested. He threw the Invisibility Cloak over his shoulders and stepped close to Ginny to cover her as well.

"Harry, we're safe here," Ginny protested.

"I know, but it's hard to hear in here," Harry argued. "Echoes."

Ginny scowled, but ducked under the cloak. She didn't like the fact that Harry wanted to Apparate into the midst of the sea of Death Eaters, but she didn't say anything. She just gripped Harry's arm.

"Hold on," Harry whispered and a moment later he Apparated them into the bushes surrounding the bandstand, just as Voldemort pointed his wand at his throat. As he did so, the villagers and their reinforcements stopped their labours and began gathering in doorways and along fences. Every face looked frightened, exhausted and careworn.

"You have fought bravely and I commend you in your efforts to defend your homes and businesses," Voldemort called, his high, cold voice sending tendrils of fear down Ginny's spine. "But it is foolish to continue to do so. You have lost your battle and it is time for my loyal followers to take over this village."

"We won't let them!" some brave soul called from the graveyard.

"Harry Potter is DEAD!" Voldemort shouted. "I know you are hiding his body! If you do not surrender Harry Potter's body in ten minutes time, I will direct my Death Eaters to search every building in this village for it. They will be given orders to kill anyone who refuses to let them enter. You have ten minutes!"

Harry's voice echoed in Ginny's head. _The villagers don't have my body,_ he said, sounding agitated. _I can't let them take a punishment meant for me, and I know they'll still try to prevent the Death Eaters from searching for a body they don't have._

Ginny put a hand on Harry's arm. _What are you going to do?_

Harry drew a deep breath and she could feel him straighten his shoulders. _ It's time, Ginny. It's time to prove the Prophecy right or wrong._

Ginny turned to face him. She put her arms around his waist saying,_ I love you, Harry. I hope you know that. And no matter what happens, I will love you forever._

Harry kissed her forehead. _I love you, too, Ginny. I'll do my best to stay alive,_ he promised as the Death Eaters began fanning out in every direction to do their master's bidding. _I want us to be together forever._ The ten minutes was nearly up.

_I know you will, Harry, but time is slipping away…_ And before Harry could protest, she kissed his cheek and then crept from beneath the cloak to hide underneath the bandstand. A moment later, the bushes rustled a little as Harry Disapparated.

Ginny chewed her lower lip as Harry landed in front of the bandstand with a splash, catching everyone by surprise. Whipping off the Invisibility Cloak, he bellowed, "Tom Riddle, you will NOT send your Death Eaters to terrorize these villagers. They won't need to search for my body. I'm alive and I challenge you to a duel to the death."

A malevolent smile formed on Voldemort's snake-like face. He said nothing as he descended the steps while cries and exclamations of, "It's _HARRY!_" and "He's alive!" rippled through the crowd which closed in to form a circle with Harry and Voldemort in its centre.

To the rest of the on-lookers Harry called, "This is my fight and my fight alone! Everyone stand back and give us room! I have a few scores to settle!"

**End of Chapter 31**

**A/N:** Well, there it is… the large fight's over and now it's up to Harry in the next chapter to do the villain in! I hope I haven't made too many of you angry with me for following canon and bumping-off Fred. I know Aggiebell was frustrated with me for doing that!

Speaking Aggiebell, I again thank her for the quick turn-around on yet another chapter. I keep feeding them to her nearly two at a time and she's doing a marvellous job of correcting, commenting and suggesting with so little time in between chapters. Aggiebell, you're the best!


	33. 32 Harry vs Voldemort

**Chapter 32: Harry vs. Voldemort**

Ginny crept from beneath the bandstand, morbidly curious about the impending duel. No one noticed her as she pushed her way to the front of the crowd and looked around. The wizards and witches around her, friend and foe alike, seemed to be holding their breath. All eyes darted between Harry and Voldemort, both of whom crouched in duelling stance in front of the bandstand. At the moment neither was moving. Because of the tension in the air, Ginny instinctively clutched at her angel pendant, rubbing it nervously with her thumb as she watched them.

A movement to her right caught her eye. Hermione was weaving through the crowd towards Harry. Her posture, usually so straight, was hunched over, and Ginny realized her friend was shielding the bag of Horcruxes. Moving slowly so that he could see but would not be tempted to hex her, she stepped into the circle and levitated the bag to Harry. He caught it and shook it open, letting the battered objects and Nagini's head fall into the slush with a chorus of splashes. Voldemort's eyes widened a fraction at the sight, but it was enough. Ginny knew Harry had the upper hand.

"Hey, Tom! I found every last one of your Horcruxes. They've all been destroyed," Harry said confidently, his voice carrying on the cold air. "Dumbledore helped me do it and now all that's left are the ruined objects!" He kicked Nagini's head towards Voldemort. "Even your precious snake didn't survive!"

"You imbecile! You dare touch what is mine? YOU KILLED NAGINI!" Voldemort shrieked, but his voice didn't seem as strong or assured as it had in the past. Ginny even detected a note of fear, as did everyone in her vicinity. A murmur rippled through the crowd.

"Oh, I did dare, Tom. You're mortal now. Did you hear me? You are just like the rest of us: _mortal!_" Harry said triumphantly. "You can _die!_"

"I am NOT like you! I will live forever! My Horcruxes guarantee me that power!" cried Voldemort and Ginny had the distinct feeling that he was trying to convince himself that his pieces of soul had not been destroyed.

"They may have in the past, Tom, but not anymore. Without them you have the same chance as I do of coming out of this duel the winner," Harry called. And just to make his point, he sent a Hurling Hex at Voldemort.

That's all it took—one insignificant little hex—and the battle commenced in earnest. Both wizards seemed to start slowly, sending inconsequential spells at each other as if gauging the other's abilities. Soon, though, they were trading spells with much more power than they had at first, and like the duel with Bellatrix, the snow between them soon melted. Steam rose between the two, reflecting the different coloured light from the spells in an oddly beautiful rainbow.

"_Protego!_" Harry yelled as he threw up a shield just in time to deflect a Bludgeoning Curse. The spell ricocheted off the shield and flew into the circle of on-lookers, hitting a black-robed figure and knocking him to the ground.

"He's dead! Greyback's DEAD!" someone shouted a moment later and fearfully, almost as one, the circle of spectators widened and a moment later a wall of shields shimmered into view, protecting the first row.

Ginny's eyes grew wide with comprehension. She had recognized Greyback's name from countless hours of listening in on as many Order meetings as she could manage, courtesy of the well-worn Extendable Ear she always kept in her pocket. The werewolf and all the trouble he and his followers had been causing had been the subject of many a late-night Order discussion. She couldn't help thinking, _Serves him right for biting Professor Lupin and making him suffer so horribly for so many years._

When she turned her attention back to the duel, Harry was wandlessly levitating something shiny and small between him and Voldemort while still maintaining his attack with his wand hand.

"I hope you recognize this ring," he called as the tiny object hovered between them. "This is the ring with the Peverell coat of arms, the one that belonged to your grandfather, Marvolo Gaunt."

Voldemort growled indistinctly upon hearing the man's name and cast a spell that caused Harry to drop the ring.

He continued needling Voldemort, though. "Dumbledore knew about its existence for years, but didn't go after it until last summer. He knew there was every possibility that each one of the Horcruxes was covered in curses, but he was willing to risk hurting himself to ensure that I successfully completed the job you have so generously given me. Unfortunately, even after all those years, your nasty little spell still robbed Dumbledore of his magic."

"He deserved what that spell took from him!" Voldemort shrieked. "He took things from me that were MINE!"

"Things that you STOLE from other people, from the Wizarding world!" Harry shot back, punctuating his sentence with a series of spells that landed at Voldemort's feet, making him step back a few paces. Harry followed, pressing his advantage.

The mangled locket took the place of the ring between the two combatants.

Harry called, "Your selfishness has taken two valuable objects from the Wizarding world, Tom! Yes, I can see by the look in your eyes that you recognize Salazar Slytherin's family locket, the one Merope Gaunt pawned at Borgin and Burk's just before she gave birth to you and died in that Muggle orphanage."

"Don't speak of my mother like that! You have no right to bring her into this," Voldemort spat through a volley of return spellfire.

"I can and I will," Harry challenged, as he easily side-stepped the curses. "Your parents are the reason you became so bitter about life in both the Muggle _and_ the Wizarding worlds! You killed your father and created Horcruxes from Wizarding relics as revenge for what people in both worlds have done to you!"

He lowered the locket towards the ground and momentarily took his eyes off his opponent. Ginny could tell he was searching for the next object.

"Don't drop that locket! You have no reverence for the sacred objects belonging to the Wizarding world!" Voldemort screeched. "You destroyed them!"

"I wouldn't have had to destroy these things if you hadn't made Horcruxes out of them!" Harry retorted. "You're the one who has no reverence for historical objects." Deliberately, he tossed the locket at Voldemort's feet. It landed with a small splash, soiling the bottom of his robes with the slush created by their duel.

Voldemort's response was to send a lethal-looking magenta-coloured spell at Harry who nimbly dodged out of the way calling to those behind him, "Look out."

The crowd immediately behind him parted quickly as the spell zoomed towards them. It hit a pine tree standing just inside the graveyard, instantly turning it brown.

The pieces of the battered old wand were next. Someone in the crowd cried out, "That's Ravenclaw's wand! I recognize the handle. Where did they get that?"

Harry seemed all too happy to answer. "Tom had his Death Eaters steal it from Mr. Ollivander years ago."

"So the rumours were true!" the voice called back. "The relics really did exist!"

"All of them were hidden in plain sight," Harry replied, "until Tom Riddle here decided to collect the valuable objects belonging to the Founders of Hogwarts for himself. His selfishness deprived all of us the chance to view valuable artefacts of our heritage."

"You are the one who destroyed the wand and the other two," Voldemort pointed out. His accusation was backed by a surge in the power of the spells he sent at Harry.

"I don't deny that," Harry puffed as the new spells hit his shield. "But I wouldn't have had to if you hadn't turned them into Dark objects so evil that only a curse of the same magnitude would rid them of the original spells!"

The crowd murmured ominously at this latest bit of news as Harry lobbed the pieces of broken wand at Voldemort's feet and levitated the cup into the middle of the circle.

A voice from the other side of the crowd yelled, "That's Hufflepuff's Cup! There's a copy of it on the mantle in the Hufflepuff common room!"

Others joined in with outraged and hopeful exclamations.

"What happened to it?"

"Can it be fixed?"

"Why turn it into a Dark object?"

"Can you answer their questions?" Harry asked Voldemort. "Or would you rather I speculated on your motivation?"

Voldemort smiled indulgently. "Be my guest, Potter," he said, loud enough for all to hear. "We'd all like to hear what your explanation is."

Harry gave a curt nod, acknowledging the challenge for what it was. "My opponent coveted things others possessed. He wanted them for his own, so he hunted down the legendary possessions of the Hogwarts Founders, which were hidden in museums, a bookcase and a shop window. He made sure we'd never get to see the actual relics when he cursed them, concealing a bit of his soul in each object." At this news the crowd quieted noticeably, as if all ears were listening. "The methods I used to counteract Tom's curses mangled the cup and the other objects because the magic had to be strong. They are permanently damaged and can never be repaired."

More outraged grumbling rumbled through the spectators as people realized that they'd never see the subjects of the stories they grew up listening to and hoping to see some day.

Suddenly someone called, "Harry, why do you call You-Know-Who 'Tom Riddle?'"

Harry smiled. "It's his name! The one he was born with," he announced. Voldemort growled and took a few steps to his left. Harry copied him, keeping the distance between them even. "It's a name he despises because it's the name of his father, a Muggle he hated for abandoning his mother. Tom here is a half-blood. For all his talk of pure-blood supremacy, he's no purer of blood than I am because my own father married a Muggle-born witch."

"My mother's blood was purer than your mother's, the filthy Mudblood!" Voldemort spat. "She was a pure-blood witch!"

Harry laughed. "Ha! She may have been pure-blood, but you're forgetting that your mother was a Squib who fed love potions to your father to make him fall in love with her."

"I will not tolerate you dragging my mother's name through the mud, Potter!" Voldemort screeched.

"I'm only stating the facts, Tom," Harry said calmly. He sidestepped again, causing Voldemort to do the same. "Dumbledore made certain that I was familiar with your biography. 'Know your enemies,' he used to tell me. 'Know their backgrounds and what they have studied and you'll know how to counteract anything they do against you.' Pretty sound advice, if you ask me."

"Dumbledore was an old FOOL! I don't have time for this!" Voldemort raged impatiently. "_Crucio!_"

Harry had anticipated the spell and was several steps to its left by the time the spell sped past him. Several on-lookers yanked others out of its path and the spell hit the window of a business, splintering it and expending its energy on several potted plants. Voldemort screamed in frustration and aimed several more curses at Harry who decided the best thing to do was to let go of the golden Horcrux.

As Hufflepuff's cup clattered into the slush with the other Horcruxes, Harry cast the spell most people associated with his duelling style. "_Expelliarmus!_" he bellowed.

At the same time, Voldemort roared, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

What happened next was something Ginny had only heard about by listening in at the keyhole to Ron's room between her third and fourth years, the summer they had spent at Grimmauld Place. The two spells collided in mid-air, exactly equally between the two duellists in an explosion of red, green, and gold sparks. A globe of golden light appeared at the junction of the two spells and both duellists began concentrating with all their might on keeping the globe in the middle of the space between them.

Nothing much happened for the next few minutes as Harry and Voldemort battled to keep the globe exactly in the middle of the two spells. The square was completely silent now and no one moved for fear of startling the combatants enough to cause them the break their concentration and send their spells into the square.

Then, as Harry began to visibly sweat, a note of pure music, possibly phoenix song, filled the square. It seemed to come from the vicinity of the golden globe and was followed by rays of golden light that arched overhead and combined to form a beautiful golden bubble that surrounded first Harry and then Voldemort.

From where she stood, Ginny saw a small smile break out on Harry's face.

_Stay where you are, Ginny,_ he sent to her through their connection. _This happened last time. I think the bubble will expand. Let it flow over you, even if you're afraid. It won't hurt you._

_How do you know?_ she enquired.

_I just know, Ginny. It's as if my phoenix is transmitting the knowledge that you or anyone else I trust not to hurt me won't be harmed if they step into or stay within the bubble._

Ginny nodded. _I'm not afraid. I trust you and the pendant I made for you, Harry. I'll stay._

Harry did not respond except for the widening of his smile. Then, as if on command, the bubble began to expand sending the crowd of on-lookers scampering for the shelter of the graveyard and surrounding buildings. They did not run completely away from the square, however; people were too fascinated by what was happening to want to miss anything.

_Cowards,_ Ginny thought, and feeling Harry chuckle through their connection, she stood her ground. So did Neville, Hermione and Luna who had joined Ginny inside the bubble. Ron was there, too, leaning heavily on Hermione, his right arm in a sling. _He should have stayed with Madam Pomfrey,_ Ginny thought furiously, but she knew her brother's loyalty to Harry out-weighed any thought to his own safety.

But they were not the only ones. Not only was Harry's group of immediate friends gathered within the boundaries of the cage, Ginny's parents, Aberforth Dumbledore, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, and Ginny's remaining brothers had pushed their way into it. Fleur was there, too, standing behind Bill, her wand at the ready and pointed directly at Voldemort.

"Now isn't this quaint?" Voldemort sneered at Harry. "Your friends have all lined up so you can watch them die!"

Harry paled noticeably at this but remained silent, keeping the golden globe created by the spells centred exactly in the middle of the arch.

Harry spoke with some difficulty because of how hard he was concentrating, "At least… I have… friends."

Voldemort scowled and Ginny found herself agreeing with Harry as his friends responded to Voldemort's taunts.

"We're not afraid to die!" Neville yelled from his position across the bubble from Ginny.

"Harry has more friends than you'll ever hope to have," shouted Hermione. "We respect him!"

"You're nothing but a big bully!" cried Luna, surprising everyone. "Bullies have no ethics when it comes to others!"

An elderly wizard Ginny recognized as Luna's father stepped into the cage to stand beside her. "Bullies are selfish and cowardly and do mean things to people just because they want to see another person hurting!" he added. "We refuse to be bullied!"

"SILENCE!" roared Voldemort. "You're all pathetic to think you can stand up to me and my Death Eaters!"

George bellowed, "We already have and we were winning!" at the same time Ron challenged, "I don't see any of them backing you up. They're all hiding, afraid to show their faces!"

"They're doing my bidding!" Voldemort snarled. He took his eyes off the golden globe and glanced at the crowd. The globe travelled closer to his wand as he did so, bringing his attention back to his duel with Harry.

"Then where are they?" Professor McGonagall asked, looking directly at Voldemort.

"I've sent them to search the village," Voldemort screamed as he concentrated on the position of the golden globe.

"No, you haven't, not all of them," Kingsley Shacklebolt said as he and several Aurors stepped into the cage. "We know the identities of the Death Eaters here and most of those still alive are standing in the graveyard… awaiting transport to Azkaban."

"NO!" Voldemort screamed in frustration. It looked as if he wanted nothing more than to curse the Auror, but couldn't because of the spell connecting his wand to Harry's.

As the Aurors joined the steadily-growing group behind Harry, Ginny took a good look at the two combatants. Harry seemed to be in control still, his wand held firmly in both hands. Voldemort, on the other hand, was beginning to tire, his wand undulating visibly, as if his magical power had been compromised in some way. On his side of the connection the spell began to shake as the golden globe began inching towards his wand. Ginny glanced at Harry again. His face was a study in concentration, but he looked much more confident than his opponent at the moment. She sent a few words of encouragement down their link which Harry acknowledged with an almost imperceptible nod.

Suddenly, Narcissa Malfoy emerged from the crowd and stepped into the golden bubble. "You turned my husband against me and my son," she announced, holding her head high and her wand on Voldemort. "For the last sixteen years we have endured Lucius' threats and unjustified punishments and his enjoyment as he watched us suffer. I can never forgive you for that."

Voldemort smiled for it seemed that Mrs Malfoy's fury and the hatred expressed in her accusation was exactly what he needed to regain his confidence. "That was his choice," he responded. "He had to want to cause you pain. I didn't do anything to make him enjoy hurting you."

"You encouraged him and that was enough!" Mrs Malfoy cried miserably. She turned and cast her gaze on Harry's supporters. She gestured specifically at Ron, Hermione and Ginny. "They, however, have done everything humanly possible to see that my son survives. They have been kind. They have been compassionate. They have _cared_ what actually happens to my son! Not at all like the monster you are!"

Voldemort scowled, clearly nettled by the accusation.

"Did you know that at this very moment, Draco and two of his friends are fighting for their lives for the second time in six months because of their duels with Lucius?" She looked back at Voldemort, but he showed no reaction. Her voice shook with emotion as she continued, "The spells he used on them he learned from _you._ They're dark and evil and meant to exact pain so heinous that the victim goes insane from it before he dies. You _encouraged_ Lucius to love using those spells, to love listening to his victim's screams of pain and cries for mercy. Had he not been killed in his last duel with Draco, Lucius would have stood over him, his _son,_ laughing as the life drained out of him and his friends!"

Mrs Malfoy took a step forward towards Harry, her wand still trained on Voldemort. "Harry Potter," she said, "you have shown compassion and friendship to Draco, Blaise and Theo when you could have shunned them and sent them to their deaths. You are a better man than my beloved Lucius. I pledge my support to you. I want to help you rid the world of this pariah. Just say the word and I will do as you ask."

Harry blinked. "Thank you," he said tersely. "I'll need your help in a few minutes, I reckon." He asked Ginny, _Are there any more people coming through the cage?_

_No,_ she answered.

_Then let's get on with this…_

As they conversed, Mrs Malfoy went to stand with Harry's other supporters and Voldemort suddenly looked as if he'd swallowed a very disagreeable potion.

Ginny now detected something new. An audible wail was rising up all around the square, with the loudest concentration of sound coming from the graveyard. It grew in volume until many people put their hands over their ears and stopped watching what was happening before them, their attention diverted to the many Death Eaters still in the crowd.

_What's happening?_ Harry called to Ginny.

She searched the spectators nearest her, looking for something to report. _It looks as if Voldemort is using the Dark Mark to drain magic from the Death Eaters!_ Ginny observed. _The ones I can see are clutching their arms and making the most horrible noise. Some of them are even lying on the ground thrashing as if they've been put under the Cruciatus Curse._

_I think he's taking their magic,_ Harry responded with an audible grunt. _ He's using the extra power to try to push the golden ball back towards my wand._

_He won't get away with that!_ Ginny said fiercely. She raised her wand, pointing it at Harry, and cast an ancient spell that fortified the magic within his phoenix pendent with magic from her own angel. Harry's eyes grew round behind his glasses as he realized what she'd just done.

_Why?_ he asked in alarm.

_You're going to WIN!_

Harry smiled.

Ginny felt her angel warm up as the two necklaces communicated through the spell. At the same time, a strange sensation of weakness suffused her body. She saw Harry's phoenix, hidden as it was under his clothing, begin to glow.

_Ginny, stop the spell!_ Harry ordered, sounding alarmed.

_I can't, _she cried. _The only way to stop the spell is to use its power in some way. Use the extra magic to defeat Voldemort, Harry! You reserved that extra magic for when you needed it. You need it NOW! USE IT!_

Harry seemed to understand for the globe between the spells suddenly raced towards Voldemort's wand as if it was being pushed. At the same time, the drain on Ginny's magic lessened and she felt a bit stronger.

Suddenly, the crowd gasped. From the place on Harry's chest where Ginny knew his phoenix pendent rested came several waves of magical energy. The waves surrounded Harry in a bright red aura. No one but Ginny knew what it was.

Ginny smiled. "I love you_,_"she called to Harry and the visible manifestation of her love. "Your friends love you!"

Hermione—who had learned about the existence of Harry's necklace and its purpose last summer—seemed to have understood what was happening first. "I love you, Harry!" she yelled, and the aura brightened at her words.

"We love you, son!" Mr. and Mrs. Weasley called, taking up the rallying cry. (A shiver of happiness went through Ginny as she realized what they'd just called Harry.)

"You can do this, Harry!" Neville and several others cried encouragingly.

Seamus Finnegan hollered, "We've got your back, mate!" He and Dean pushed their way into the bubble and raised their wands in Voldemort's direction.

Ginny added, "It may be your fate, but you won't do this alone!"

Somewhere beyond the limits of the golden bubble a chant began and as the professors and Mrs Malfoy added their affirmations of support for Harry, it grew in magnitude.

"HAR-RY! HAR-RY! HAR-RY! HAR-RY!"

Harry acknowledged the chant with a quick nod and the aura became blindingly bright as if the chanted words were strengthening it. At the same time, the ball of light connecting the two spells reached Voldemort's wand and the eerie sound of past screams and spells issued from its tip.

As the chanting continued, whispers of "Priori Incantatem" began circulating behind Ginny. She thought she knew what people were talking about, so she glanced at Hermione and received a confirming nod.

The screams continued, now and then interrupted by the manifestation of other spells. As the fascinated crowd watched, several barely visible, ghost-like Death Eaters climbed from Voldemort's wand tip and began circling the Dark Lord, intent, it seemed, on distracting him from his duel with Harry.

Harry took advantage of this, casting a wandless spell with his left hand that sped towards his opponent. Voldemort's wand twitched violently as the spell hit him and he grabbed the handle with both hands trying to keep it from slipping out of his fingers. Then Harry cast an immensely powerful shield charm that expanded towards the golden globe and simultaneously yanked on his own wand. The connection between the two spells broke as Voldemort's wand sailed into Harry's hand and the golden globe containing Voldemort's original Killing Curse rebounded against the shield with a resounding clang. Seconds later, it hit its caster, killing him instantly. The golden bubble vanished.

The Godric's Hollow village square was suddenly bathed in shocked silence. No one chanted. No one moved. The red aura around Harry disappeared, leaving him looking stunned and more than a little tired as he stared at Voldemort's lifeless corpse lying in the snow before him. Then, Ginny was running towards Harry accompanied by a wave of ecstatic cheering.

"You did it, you did it!" she screamed happily as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. Harry shook his head as if to clear it and returned the kiss, pulling her close and lifting her off her feet just before the two of them were engulfed by a sea of celebrating villagers and friends.

**oOo**

Several hours later, after making the rounds of the shops, the church and graveyard, and Madam Pomfrey's impromptu infirmary and talking to countless people, Ginny and Harry found themselves standing alone under the great oak tree near the Potter family crypt. The late afternoon sun that was peeking through the cloud cover overhead bathed the battlefield with golden light.

"It's finally quiet," Harry breathed as he leaned back against the giant tree trunk.

"Mmmm hmmm," Ginny hummed as she stepped back to lean against his chest, wanting to cuddle with him and watch the sunset at the same time. He put his arms around her middle, pulling her close. "But it was nice to hear what all those people had to say to you, how grateful they were for the sacrifices you've made."

Harry kissed the top of her head before he responded. "It was, but I kept telling everyone it was a group effort. I couldn't have done it without everyone's support. Nobody listened." He was silent for a moment, then he added, "I don't understand something."

"What's that?" she enquired, tilting her head to one side to look at him.

"Why don't I feel any different, now that Tom's gone, than I did yesterday?" he asked. "The Wizarding world certainly seems a happier place."

Ginny smiled as she suggested, "Maybe the truth hasn't sunk in yet."

Harry frowned. "I don't think that's right. Everywhere we went people kept asking me what my plans were now that Tom was gone. They seemed to think I was going to do something miraculous like run for Minister for Magic and win."

Chuckling, Ginny responded, "I can't ever see you as Minister for Magic, Harry. You're not greedy enough!"

Harry joined in her laughter. "Now that I can agree with you on," he said.

She stroked her hand down the tattered material of his sleeve. "No matter what, you're still my Harry," she mused.

"That's good to know," he responded and she could feel him relaxing a little.

The sun sank lower, partially hidden now by the clouds. Here and there orange rays illuminated small parcels of land making the snow and the trees and buildings sparkle brilliantly in the last light of day while the surrounding countryside faded into shadow.

Ginny changed the subject. "What do you think of Kingsley Shacklebolt being named Interim Minister for Magic?" she asked.

"I think it's brilliant," Harry replied.

"Why?"

"He's like me. He doesn't want the job but has taken it because he thinks it's the right thing to do."

"Then you approve of the appointment?" she asked.

"Absolutely. I think he's just what the Ministry needs at the moment," Harry commented.

Ginny turned in his arms and looked up into his tired green eyes. "I'm glad, because he's already started making changes."

One of Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his fringe. "What sort of changes?" he asked warily. "Do they involve me?"

Ginny chuckled. "Not yet, they don't. But they might. In the meantime, he's given Dad a promotion." She waited for him to respond and when he only looked at her expectantly she said, "Dad's been made Head of the Muggle Relations Department and the Special Liaison to the Muggle Prime Minister."

"That's terrific! He's perfect for that job!" Harry exclaimed softly. "How did you know?"

"Ron slipped me a note about it that had a couple of Muggle busi-ness cards in it," Ginny replied. "You know Hermione, always prepared for anything. She had a stack of them in her bum bag that she cast the Protean Charm on." She reached into her pocket and pulled out two small paper cards. She handed one to Harry. "Here. This one's yours. It's not as indestructible as the Galleon, but it works the same way."

Harry stuck the card in his pocket. "Thanks. Whose cards is it connected to?"

"Just Hermione's, Ron's and mine," she answered.

"That's good. We might need them in the next few days," Harry commented unenthusiastically.

"Your work is never done, right Harry?" Ginny teased.

"I wish," he grumbled. They fell into companionable silence for a while and Ginny realized it had been more than six months since they had stood like this. So much had happened during that time and she was grateful that they were being given a second chance be alone for a few minutes… until Harry snored and Ginny discovered she was holding him up. She snuggled closer and returned to watching the sunset.

Eventually, she prodded Harry awake and their conversation picked up again. Each of them was eager to comment on things they'd observed in the last few hours. They were equally amazed at the number of owls zooming in and out of the Godric's Hollow post office and the fact that as soon as Tom Riddle's body had been cleared from the square the proprietor of the local pub had thrown its doors open and had begun offering free drinks. It would be a long time before the celebrating stopped.

Ginny reported that Percy had popped over to the Ministry in London to deal with the parchment work associated with Fred's death. He had arrived in time to see Minister Pembroke being taken away in shackles just as a group of wizards pulled down the Death Eater statue that had replaced the original fountain in the middle of the Atrium. Harry's "good riddance" made her giggle.

Somebody had told Harry that as soon as he had killed Voldemort people under the Imperius Curse had begun coming back to themselves. Unfortunately, the Muggle-born and half-blood population that had been branded and made to live like Muggles weren't as fortunate. They didn't have wands and probably wouldn't have new ones for quite a while. He predicted that that particular mess was going to take a long time to sort out.

Finally, as the sun turned the sky pink and red and purple and sank behind a distant hill, Ginny asked, "What are your plans, Harry?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "I reckon it all depends on what I'm required to do and how things with your family shake out."

Ginny hung her head, remembering Fred's lifeless body lying on the cold floor of the make-shift morgue at the school. The hard lump of grief that formed in her throat made it nearly impossible to speak for a moment and she fought the sudden urge to cry; her mother was doing enough of that for the entire family.

"Did you know Ron's already talking about not going back to Hogwarts?" she asked, focusing on a more neutral subject.

"Yeah," Harry said, pulling her close so she could lay her head on his shoulder. "I don't think he was very happy there the last couple of months."

"He wasn't," Ginny sniffed, "and now that Fred's gone one of us needs to be with George as much as possible. Ron's taken it into his head that he'll be the one to run the Wheezes until George gets his act together."

Harry handed her a wadded-up handkerchief which she took gratefully. "He'll be good at it, you know," he said.

Ginny looked up at him with a watery smile. "Yes, he will. He and George have always gotten along better than he and Fred ever did." She sighed. "Nothing's going to be the same, is it?"

Ginny heard the determined note in Harry's voice. "Nope, it's going to be better."

"So… will you still be rooming at Mum and Dad's?" she asked.

Harry shook his head. "Maybe for a few days, but I'd like to move into Gwenyn as soon as I can." He smiled and his eyes crinkled happily behind his glasses. "I finally own a house I want to live in, Ginny, and as much as I love living at The Burrow, I'm a guest in your parents' house. I don't want to be a guest any more. I want… I want to be the master of the house."

Ginny smiled back at him. "It's nice to hear you planning your future, Harry," she said. She watched in fascination as her words took effect.

A look of peace and anticipation settled on his handsome face. "Yeah, my future."

**The End**

**A/N:** **July 2010… **As Porky Pig in the 1940s/1950s cartoons says, That's All Folks! I realize this chapter is quite similar to the scene in Goblet of Fire, but since it's one of my very favourite scenes in the entire septology, it seemed natural that Voldemort would meet his end in a familiar manner on his birthday, no less, rather than something completely foreign to what we know and love.

I thank you all for sticking with me since June of 2007. When I started this story, it was intended to be a quick ten chapter piece to quietly wrap up the universe I started back in 2003 with _You're Still You _so that it would indeed be a summer story. But then friends and readers began asking me questions that started me thinking and before I knew it, I had plans for more than twenty chapters and no end in sight except the inevitable final show-down.

What you've just finished reading is the result of several well-placed questions. There are two more chapters and then Aggiebell can finally click the "completed" button on the Admin Panel! I have truly enjoyed each and every comment, every criticism, and every chance to converse with you about my work and I appreciate the time you took to let me know my hours at the keyboard are worth all the sleepless nights and stolen lunch times to get my chapters completed. So thank you everyone.

Finally, thank you Aggiebell for sticking with me through nearly thirty-five chapters and three years of writing this story. You're a great friend and wonderful beta and I appreciate your taking the time to help me become a better writer.


	34. 33 Aftermath

**Chapter Thirty-Three: Aftermath**

**A/N:** One of my friends was rather vocal about the fact that _Deathly Hallows_ didn't have an aftermath so that we knew distinctly whether or not Harry reunited with Ginny immediately after his sandwich and long nap, what was ultimately done with Voldemort's body or how long it took Harry to put the Elder Wand back in Dumbledore's tomb. Melindaleo, I dedicate this Aftermath to you because now you know exactly what happened during the week following Harry's victory… at least in _this_ story.

* * *

Five days after the Battle of Godric's Hollow, Harry finally found some time to himself. He was tired, both mentally and physically. Dying to get rid of the last Horcrux seemed to have sapped his strength, and he hadn't quite recovered from the ordeal. He craved solitude in a place where he could be alone with his thoughts, in a place where only his close friends could reach him if they needed him.

He was tired, too, of coping with people and the things they wanted from him. The Ministry had required a thorough retelling of the Horcrux hunt story—twice—and had documented his account of his time in the cave as well—in triplicate—because so many Death Eaters had been involved and the Wizengamot needed his testimony for the up-coming trials. That had been mentally taxing and he had only gotten through the ordeal because Ginny had been sitting next to him.

The media, mostly in the form of Rita Skeeter, had hounded him night and day. Her interviews had been invasive and full of verbal trickery; at one point, Harry had nearly snatched her Quick Quotes Quill out of the air and snapped it in two. The only thing that had kept him from doing so was the spell Hermione had found for him, one that he had used wandlessly to make the quill record the truth and not lies. Rita hadn't found out about it until she had gone back to the _Daily Prophet_. The resulting articles weren't nearly as inaccurate as they would have been which made Harry very happy indeed.

Private citizens wanted his attention as well. Harry could no longer walk freely down the streets of Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, nor even in Godric's Hollow without someone wanting something from him. They wanted to thank him, to give him things. They asked for his autograph and the chance to have their picture taken with him. At first, he had been flattered, but when people started asking him to speak at their loved-ones' funerals he refused, telling them it wouldn't be fair if he spoke at some but not others. His answer seemed to satisfy most people and they soon dropped the subject.

He had endured this attention as long as he could without snapping at someone. Finally, yesterday, he had said 'enough'; he needed some private time before he began attending the seemingly endless parade of funerals he felt he must go to, including Fred Weasley's, which would be held privately the following morning at The Burrow. In short, he needed to centre himself and come to terms with the personal ramifications of the war's outcome.

Arriving on the road leading into Muggle Godric's Hollow early in the morning, Harry threw the Invisibility Cloak around himself and strolled the five miles between the villages until he reached the gates of Gwenyn. He let himself in and restlessly wandered the rooms and corridors of his house, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes before needing to get up again. Finally ending up in the library with its ample space for pacing, Harry strode about the room, removing books from shelves and then putting them back, rearranging the pictures on the mantelpiece, and tidying the desk in his attempt to calm himself. The truth was, even though he was physically tired, his brain remained on fast forward. His thoughts kept jumping from one painful subject to another, each one seeming to drag him farther down into a mental pit swarming in melancholy, sadness and depression. Then, he'd suddenly think of some triumph that had resulted from the battle and his spirits would soar for a little while. And underlying it all was the mental battle between fact and fiction.

On the one hand, his mind understood that the Wizarding world was now free of Voldemort. On the other, he could still feel the Dark Lord's threat upon his shoulders, the threat that had been with him ever since he had entered the Wizarding world. However, overwhelming evidence pointed to the fact that the former was true— especially when he remembered his walk through the village and saw, in his mind's eye, the damage done by the Death Eaters' spells to the houses, the business district, the church and the graveyard with its blackened, cracked and broken headstones.

Harry had spent some time when he had first arrived in the square gazing over the kissing gate into the cemetery. The biggest change to this part of the village was that witches and wizards longer needed to discretely pull one's wand to get the Wizarding part of the graveyard to reveal itself; the ancient protections had failed in the first few minutes of the battle and, Harry had heard, the village elders were debating whether or not to put them back up.

He had decided to cancel the Fidelius Charm and most of the other protections that had been on the Potter Family crypt before the battle. He wanted the world to be able to see where his parents were buried, the same place where he wanted to be laid to rest sometime in the far distant future. What had helped him make this decision were the many people who had expressed their thanks to him and told him they were saddened that they had never been allowed to thank his parents personally for their sacrifice that eventually led to the vanquishing of Voldemort.

Another thing that was weighing on Harry's mind was how he felt about Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. He was torn between his old, deep-seated dislike of the three Slytherins and the new respect for them he had formed during the Battle of Godric's Hollow. Two days previously, Harry had made a point of seeking out the convalescing Draco at the undertaker's to express his condolences regarding the loss of his father, Lucius. Blaise and Theo were also there, sitting quietly with their friend while Mrs. Malfoy dealt with most of the visitors.

Despite their differences, the four wizards had managed nearly an hour of civil conversation. It had been very awkward at first; none of them had known how to get past the polite phrases one murmurs to the bereaved. Then, as Harry was about to leave, Blaise had asked how Harry, Ron and Hermione had come by the Basilisk fangs. Harry had recited a very brief version of the trip down into the Chamber of Secrets and ended his story by inquiring after Blaise's health. The other man had smiled and glanced at his companions, who nodded.

"Truthfully, we're all a bit loopy from all the potions we're taking," he admitted sheepishly. He frowned at his friend. "But Draco insisted he needed to be here to support his mother, so we're here instead of in bed."

"Where we should be," Theo grumbled, his gruff tone cancelled by the concern in his eyes when he looked at Blaise and Draco.

Draco shrugged. "I couldn't make my mother to face this alone," he said, gesturing towards his father's coffin and the black-shrouded couple talking with Mrs. Malfoy. "It's too painful."

"People would have understood why you weren't here," Theo continued.

"So would your mum," Blaise added.

Draco sighed. "I know, but since I'm the sole heir…" He broke off, doubling over and coughing violently into a handkerchief which turned red even though he tried to hide it. Blood.

Harry politely looked away as Theo and Blaise finished Draco's sentence, "… you're expected to be here."

Draco could only nod because he was struggling to control his breathing as he Banished the offensive cloth to a nearby bin. Harry, slightly alarmed at this manifestation of Draco's condition, offered to interrupt Mrs Malfoy. Draco glared back, shaking his head at Harry, who looked helplessly between Blaise and Theo.

"See what we mean?" Blaise asked and Harry could only nod in silent agreement.

Finally, Draco sank back in his chair gasping, "That hurt."

Again, the three wizards sat in silence, giving Harry time to think about Draco. He could see something of his own dogged determination in Draco's stubborn self-control; Harry knew he was anything but 'fine' at the moment and knew that if he was in Draco's place, he'd be doing the exact same thing because in times like these duty came first over personal comfort. A wild thought occurred to him: if things had been different could he and Draco been friends? His next thought was more conventional: could they be friends now that the war was over, or had too much happened between them over the years to ever allow them to be more than tolerant acquaintances? Only time would tell.

Harry decided to ask about Theo's, Blaise's and Draco's arms.

"No repercussions whatsoever," Blaise declared, a mixture of embarrassment and relief fleeting across his face. "I was afraid there might be some after-effects from the snake venom, but so far I haven't been affected."

"I'm glad to hear that," Harry murmured. "Hermione and Ginny were concerned."

"My nights are no longer plagued with nightmares," Theo admitted, somewhat self-consciously. He ran a hand through his hair. "No more unwanted thoughts or summonses to fight against either."

Harry nodded. He knew what that was like.

"Thank you, Harry…" Draco murmured softly.

As his mother walked up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder, he rolled up his sleeve. In the place of the Dark Mark were the two small round scars on his forearm showing where the fang had pierced the flesh. He glanced up at her, sharing a sombre smile.

"…for everything," he finished. Then grey eyes had met green, and Harry knew that Draco's thanks were far more than the simple words implied.

He had stayed to talk until someone else was announced, but unlike the family that had Apparated in—he recognized Daphne and Asteria Greengrass—Harry had left by the street door and taken a long walk under his Invisibility Cloak to sort out his thoughts. He had not come to any definite conclusion except that maybe he and the three Slytherins had tacitly agreed to bury the hatchet and accept each other without further malice between them.

There came a single knock on the library door. Harry pulled himself out of his memories, but didn't say a word. He'd learned the day after the battle that this was Kreacher's custom and that if he responded verbally or opened the door himself, the elf was wont to be cross with him for not acting like a proper master. He smiled as the elf eased into the library.

Now that Kreacher was fully in the room, Harry looked him over appraisingly, pleased with what he saw. The change from a week ago was remarkable. No longer clothed in the filthy loincloth Harry was accustomed to seeing him in, Kreacher was now dressed in a crisp, Christmas-patterned tea towel. He had informed Harry that he had chosen the towel because the colours signified his owners' Hogwarts Houses; green for his former Slytherin family and red for his new Gryffindor master and mistress. Around his neck hung a locket—identical to the ruined locket Horcrux—that Harry had given him. This one had an ornate 'B' engraved on its face, signifying that it was an heirloom of the Black family. When Harry had granted Kreacher permission to wear Mrs Black's locket, the ancient house-elf had wept at Harry's feet, declaring Harry the nicest master he'd had in a long time.

"Master," Kreacher croaked, "tea is served in the sitting room. Mistress Hermione and your guests are waiting."

Harry sighed inwardly and rose from his chair. He couldn't get over the fact that Kreacher was so devoted to his friend. "Thank you, Kreacher. Tell my guests I'll be with them shortly," he said, trying to be as formal as possible.

_You're doing really well, Harry. I think Kreacher realizes all this formality is new to you_, came Ginny's unexpected response in his head as Kreacher nodded and backed out of the library, closing the door behind him.

_Thanks, Ginny. This 'master' thing is taking some getting used to, _Harry responded.

_I think Kreacher understands and is having the time of his life educating you on proper etiquette, _Ginny giggled.

_Well, I'm glad he's happy,_ Harry grumbled, shaking his head and withdrawing from their connection. His melancholy returned abruptly and he remained standing where he was, staring into the flames, not wanting to go out and be social just yet. These few hours of solitude hadn't been enough, hadn't given him the time he needed to come to terms with what had happened on New Year's Eve.

Then he thought of the people he was keeping waiting. Ginny was in the sitting room, most likely taking up the middle of one of the formal settees, saving a seat for him, just like she always used to in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione was also in there. Harry could picture her hovering over the tea set, most likely worrying that the tea would go cold before she could pour it. He could picture Ron as he reached for a scone, only to have his mum and Hermione gently slap his wrist and tell him to wait until Harry joined them.

With one last look at the fire, Harry walked over to the library table and picked up a large package wrapped in brown paper. Then, with one last look about him, he headed down the corridor to the sitting room.

Ginny threw her arms around his neck as he entered the formal room. He leaned the package against the wall and hugged her back, immediately losing the melancholy gloom that had hovered over him in the library.

"Come and have tea," she said, taking his hand and leading him to the settee nearest the fire.

"Hi everyone," he said as he took his seat. Mr and Mrs Weasley, Dudley, George and Percy—all looking sad and a little worse for wear, but much better than the last time he'd seen them—returned his greeting from their seats.

Harry smiled at the room's two other occupants. Ron and Hermione were seated on the settee nearest the tea service. Ron, he noticed, still had his right arm in a sling, so he was sitting as close to Hermione as he could. Her small smile told Harry that she was enjoying Ron's closeness very much. As Harry sat next to Ginny, Hermione whipped out her wand to renew the warming spell on the teapot. When steam issued from its spout, she began pouring and handing out cups.

"What lovely china," Mrs Weasley exclaimed, holding the antique cup up to the light. "It's so thin and delicate."

Ginny turned her saucer over and stared at the black mark on the back. "Harry, I think this is first edition Belleek," she exclaimed.

"Er… okay." Startled, Harry just stared at her blankly. "How do you know that?"

Smiling over at her mother, Ginny said, "Mum's got a few pieces she collected on holiday while she was at Hogwarts and she taught me all about this kind of china. It's Muggle china made in Ireland. The mark on the back of my saucer is the one used between 1863 and 1890." She giggled as Mrs Weasley very slowly and carefully set her cup on the nearest table. Dudley, George, Percy, Ron and Mr Weasley all did the same.

"Oh, honestly!" Hermione exclaimed, and taking out her wand again, she cast unbreakable charms on the tea set. "None of you has butter fingers!"

All the men in the room breathed a sigh of relief.

A discrete knock alerted Harry that Kreacher was about to enter, and he turned to greet the elf.

"Has Kreacher selected the wrong china?" Kreacher asked, looking apprehensive.

"Not at all, Kreacher," answered Harry and Hermione together, making the Weasley family smile and smother giggles behind their hands.

"We were just surprised by its age," Harry replied.

"Only the best china for Mistress Hermione," Kreacher said, nodding as he began backing out the door.

"Hold on!" Harry cried more loudly than he had intended. "Kreacher, please come back in."

The elf stopped and looked at Harry, his big eyes fearful. Hermione threw Harry a censorious look and went to kneel beside Kreacher.

"Kreacher, Master Harry isn't angry with you. He only wanted to get your attention. Please, come sit by the fire. We would like to speak with you," she said soothingly as Ginny conjured an elf-size chair.

Kreacher sat down warily, his hands worrying the locket around his neck. "What does Mistress Hermione want to speak with Kreacher about?" he asked.

Hermione cleared her throat and nervously looked at Harry. He nodded and she asked, "Would you tell us about the 'bad' locket, please, Kreacher?"

Kreacher gripped Mrs Black's locket until his knuckles turned white. "Kreacher is a bad elf. The locket made him a bad elf."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked in a much softer tone than the one he'd previously used.

The elf breathed deeply and began his story. "Many years ago, when Kreacher served the noble House of Black, Kreacher was given a locket by Master Regulus Black, second son of Orion and Walburga Black, Master Regulus had just come back home from being imprisoned for a time by the Dark Lord. He had escaped from a cave the Dark Lord had built in a mountain to house prisoners and had come back with a locket he had found concealed in his cell hidden in his robes." He stopped as Harry involuntarily sucked in his breath. When his master only grabbed Ginny's hand, he continued his story.

"The locket was identical to one that Mistress Black wore every day, except that it had an ornate 'S' engraved upon it rather than a 'B'. Master Regulus was fearful. He told Kreacher that his locket was filled with dark magic and that he was going to attempt to destroy it. He knew the Dark Lord would most likely find out the locket was missing before Master Regulus successfully got rid of it, so he hid it in the Grimmauld Place house and asked Kreacher to guard it with his life. He gave Kreacher permission to give the locket to only one person, Albus Dumbledore, and then, only if the Headmaster asked for it."

Kreacher stopped talking and began to sniffle, fat tears leaking from his bulging eyes. "The Dark Lord came after Master Regulus one night. There was a terrible fight in the house, during which Master Regulus summoned the evil locket from its hiding place and gave it to Kreacher. He made Kreacher promise to do his best to destroy it if he was killed."

Harry and his guests all glanced at each other. Just from the expression on each face, everyone in the room knew what was probably coming.

"The Dark Lord accused Master Regulus of double-crossing him," Kreacher continued. "Kreacher hid behind Mistress Black's chair and watched as Master Regulus just stood before him, saying nothing, and bearing the vicious spells the Dark Lord cast upon him. Finally, after hours and hours, the Dark Lord tired of Master Regulus' silence and cast the Killing Curse at him."

Kreacher broke down completely, howling inconsolably. Harry, Hermione, Dudley, and the Weasleys sat glancing uncomfortably at each other until Harry could not stand the elf's grief without trying to do something to help him. He conjured a handkerchief and slowly walked over to Kreacher, holding it out to him.

"Kreacher, I'm so sorry this happened," he murmured sincerely.

Kreacher nodded and blew his nose loudly. "There's more, Master Harry," he shuddered.

Hermione came to sit next to them. She reached out and gently patted Kreacher's back. The elf jumped under her touch and she murmured her apologies, her eyes seeking Harry's.

"Abused," he whispered to her over the elf's head. "Someone hit him like they did me."

Hermione nodded in grim agreement, and Harry felt anger welling up inside him. He forced the feeling away and concentrated on the creature in front of him.

"Do you feel up to telling us?" he asked.

Kreacher nodded.

At length, he continued, "The Dark Lord left the Dark Mark over the house. Kreacher was terrified because he knew the Dark Lord hadn't found his locket, the one Kreacher had concealed in his nest under the boiler at Master Regulus' request. Soon bad things began happening to the noble Black family. Master Orion was found dead at his desk at the Ministry. Mistress Walburga was set upon by Death Eaters but managed to get away, and soon there was news that Master Sirius had been imprisoned for killing the Potters and someone named Peter Pettigrew."

A collective gasp went through the listeners at this information. Harry bowed his head as the truth came rushing at him. He felt, rather than saw, Ginny come to sit next to him on the floor. She put her arm around Harry's waist and he felt her love and support coming through their connection.

"What happened then, Kreacher?" Ginny asked. She rubbed her hand in small circles on Harry's back and he began to relax under her touch.

"Kreacher began wearing the locket. Master Regulus was dead, so Kreacher took it upon himself to try to destroy the locket as he had promised. It was no good. Everything Kreacher tried failed and the locket remained as shiny and evil as it was when Master Regulus gave it to Kreacher." He shuddered, blew his nose again, but did not weep. "Kreacher is a bad elf; he could not keep his promise to Master Regulus. He could not destroy the locket. It did not want to be destroyed and each time Kreacher tried, the locket did something to Kreacher until Kreacher felt that all witches and wizards, except Mistress Walburga, resented Kreacher and called Kreacher a bad, useless elf."

"Kreacher, you are _not_ a bad elf. You did your best to carry out Master Regulus' wishes," Hermione said softly.

Kreacher began worrying the locket again. "Kreacher knows that now, Mistress Hermione," he croaked.

"I'm glad," she said. She glanced at Harry and Ginny and then asked, "What happened to you on New Year's Eve? You said you had been freed."

The elf looked at her with adoring eyes. "Mistress Hermione, you took away the locket's curse when you destroyed it. All the blackness left Kreacher's heart. Kreacher is a good elf again."

Hermione smiled at him. "Yes, you are. I see now that you never were a bad elf. You were devoted to Master Regulus and you tried to keep Mistress Black's house for her, even though she was only a portrait for so long. And Kreacher…" He looked up at her with a ghost of a smile. "What you did for me in that battle saved me and the villagers several times over. I am very grateful to you. Thank you."

"You are welcome, Mistress Hermione."

Harry gazed at his house-elf with a new feeling of respect. Kreacher was just as much a victim of Tom Riddle as he was. So many people's lives had been ruined by the wars, even Kreacher's. It was a waste… such a terrible, terrible waste, when all was said and done.

"Will you be all right?" he asked Kreacher.

"Yes, Master Harry," Kreacher answered. He picked up the locket that hung around his neck. "Thank you for saying I could wear this."

"You're welcome," Harry replied warmly as Kreacher rose and walked to the door. He opened it, left, and then came right back in.

"Master Harry, Mistress Hermione," he said, looking slightly flustered, "do you need anything before Kreacher begins preparing dinner?"

Harry looked at Hermione. She shook her head. "No, thank you, Kreacher. You may go," he said stiffly. The door closed and he sat back down on the settee next to Ginny, his head reeling.

Someone across the room cleared his throat, causing Harry to look up.

"Harry, I think you have a problem," Ron observed, nodding his head in Hermione's direction.

Harry looked over to see his friend standing in front of the fireplace where Kreacher's chair had been, her arms folded over her chest, glaring at him. Her posture immediately put him on the defensive.

"What did I do, Hermione?" he asked.

"Hmph!" she answered. "What do you think? You force him tell a story that obviously hurt to tell, and now you're treating him like a slave!"

"Hang on! You were the one who wanted to know about the locket," he said defensively. "I asked Kreacher to get us tea before you got here, and he volunteered to prepare our dinner. I don't see that as treating Kreacher like a slave." He looked helplessly at the Weasleys and was startled to see that Ron seemed to be siding with Hermione. He had come to stand behind her and had his good arm on her waist. Ginny had stayed beside him and by the way she was sitting, Harry knew she was trying to stay out of their argument, although she was listening raptly.

"Hermione, is this about the fact that I inherited Kreacher?" he asked.

She responded with a tight-lipped nod that did nothing to assuage Harry's defensiveness. They stared at each other for several moments before Hermione looked away.

"Look," he said finally. "I can't help it if I own Kreacher because I inherited him. I'm doing the best I can to treat him well, but I see you don't think I'm doing a very good job. The fact is, Kreacher _asked_ me… no, _told _me to speak formally to him like a proper master should. He scowls at me every time I try to be informal with him," Harry said vehemently. Beside him, Ginny giggled softly behind her hand.

Hermione glared at her as she said, "All right, I'll accept that, Harry, but I also noticed that he was wearing a tea towel, not clothes. Why?"

Harry propped his elbows on his knees and leaned forward so that he could rub his eyes under his glasses. "He refused to take clothes, Hermione. I offered them to him the other day. He immediately began begging me to chop his head off and mount it on the wall, since I seemed to think that he was completely useless."

Hermione stared at him.

Harry stood up and began pacing. "Look, I did what I could. I had him pick his own tea towel and then gave him Mrs Black's locket."

"Mrs Black's locket?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, Mundungus Fletcher pilfered it from headquarters right after Sirius died. Dumbledore made Dung give it to him and he put it in the desk in the library. I found it and gave it to Kreacher. He was over the moon about that. I've never seen him happier." Harry glanced over his shoulder at his friend and saw that her arms were now hanging loosely at her sides and that she was leaning back into Ron's chest. Encouraged, he said, "Kreacher doesn't know it yet, and I don't know how he'll take it when I tell him, but I've set up a vault at Gringotts for him. I'm paying him a galleon a week and he'll get several days off each month, though I doubt he'll take them. The only thing lef—OOF!"

He couldn't finish. Hermione had thrown her arms around him so tightly he couldn't breathe. "Oh Harry!" she cried. "You're so good for him! I can see that now. Can I match what you're paying him? I know he's your elf, but he seems to think that because I freed him from the bad locket's curse, he belongs to me now, too."

Harry extracted himself from her hug and stepped back, laughing. "Yes, Hermione, you can match my payments. And any time you need his help, I'll send him over. How's that?"

Hermione beamed at him. The crisis was solved. "I think it's a splendid arrangement," she agreed. She sighed and then said, "It's taken a while, but I've come to realize that as much as I'd like to achieve total freedom for house-elves and other magical creatures immediately, we really need to do it one small step at a time. And this is a good step in the right direction."

Ron snorted with laughter and murmured something that sounded very much like, "It took you long enough," as Dudley's quiet "Women!" made everyone else chuckle.

Harry sank back onto the settee and picked up his tea cup, relieved that at least for now he and Hermione were in agreement. His tea was ice cold, so he set the cup back in its saucer, not wanting to drink it. Ginny pointed her wand at his cup and murmured a warming spell. Harry smiled at her and took a sip, letting his gaze travel around the people in the room. They were his family, his adopted brothers and surrogate parents, people he felt free to love and have friendly disagreements with, people who accepted him as "just Harry" and not the saviour of the Wizarding world. They were people to whom he could turn when he needed comfort or looking after. They were the people he had willingly given his life for in battle.

He had nearly finished his tea when Ron asked, "Harry, what's in that package by the door. You know, the one you brought in with you?"

"Oh, I forgot about that," Harry exclaimed, putting his cup carefully down on a side table. He stood up and brought the package over for everyone to see. Then, with a flourish, he ripped off the wrapping and held up the formal portrait.

Exclamations of "it's brilliant!" and "how appropriate!" and "how lovely!" filled the room. Harry grinned and walked over to the fireplace. Taking out his wand, he levitated the portrait onto the nail sticking out of the wall where Aberforth and Albus Dumbledore's sister's picture had hung for so many years. Harry had replaced that picture with one that meant a lot to him. As he stood gazing up at it, James and Lily Potter gazed down at him, smiling approvingly.

"There," he said, stepping back. "I'm going to love this room now."

**End of the Aftermath**

**A/N:** Spring seems to be a very busy season this year and I suddenly found myself without any pre-betas to peruse and comment on this chapter before I sent it to Aggiebell. I was lamenting this fact to my friend KEDme and she graciously agreed to read what I'd written in spite of the fact that she hadn't read any of my other chapters. What she suggested tightened the prose and eliminated some of my superfluous words so that the chapter read the way I wanted it to. Thank you, KEDme, for reading my chapter. I appreciate the time you took to beta it for me.

Finally, many thanks to Aggiebell for finding the time in her insane work schedule to go through my chapter and comment on it. I hope the coming week won't be quite as wild as the last one was. You deserve to rest!


	35. 35 Epilogue--Service

**Chapter 34: Epilogue—Service**

On a beautiful sunny afternoon in early June, six months after the Battle of Godric's Hollow, a small group of a hundred or so mourners entered the graveyard of the Godric's Hollow church, following a solemn young man in black mourning robes who bore a simple pewter urn. They kept a respectful distance, letting him lead them to the chairs which had been placed between the headstones and crypts at the top of the hill at the back of the cemetery.

Harry Potter reached the grave he was seeking and stood before the headstone, gazing down at the words inscribed upon it.

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore _

_26 January 1859 – 21 October 1997 _

_Fear Not Death, For Death Is But the Next Great Adventure. _

A single tear escaped his left eye as he placed the urn on a small table near the grave. He brushed it away, hoping no one had seen. He'd promised himself he could cry later when he was alone, but for now he had a job to do and couldn't afford to indulge in his emotions. When at last he turned around, it was to address the other mourners who had quietly taken their seats while his back was turned.

Harry nodded to Aberforth Dumbledore. The older wizard was now standing a few feet away from him between his sister's and parents' graves. The two wizards smiled sadly at each other before Harry nodded and began searching for the Weasley family. He located them sitting next to the Potter Crypt. Ginny sat ramrod straight next to her parents, a handkerchief clutched in her hand. Several chairs over, Ron had his arm around Hermione, just as he'd had since the memorial service at Hogwarts earlier in the day. Further back amongst the crowd were the Hogwarts teachers, easily spotted because of Hagrid and his brother, Grawp.

The mourners fell silent as Harry stepped behind the podium set up beside the open grave. He then raised his wand and pointed it at his throat, casting a Sonorus Charm.

"We gather here this afternoon to pay our last respects to Professor Albus Dumbledore and to commit his remains to the earth," he began, still searching the faces of the crowd for the friends he had invited to be here. "This morning at the memorial service we heard what a marvellous statesman, warrior and leader Professor Dumbledore was, but now I want to tell you who Albus Dumbledore was to me. Later you'll have a chance to share your own stories or memories."

Harry cleared his throat, giving himself time to gather his thoughts. "I first met Professor Dumbledore when I was eleven. At the time he was a rather imposing figure, the all-powerful Headmaster of Hogwarts. I admit I was rather intimidated by his long beard and unusual clothes, not to mention his crooked nose and the fact that he knew more about me than I knew about him." A ripple of laughter rolled through the crowd. Harry smiled at the memory, relaxing into his planned remarks. "We didn't have much contact at all my first three years at Hogwarts, but beginning with my fourth year Professor Dumbledore became an increasing influence on my life. I can never thank him enough for the support he gave me during the Triwizard Tournament. He helped me through that turbulent year while I competed against students much older and more accomplished at magic than I was at the time. He became someone I could rely on for answers to the many questions I had, and when he rescued me from Death Eater Barty Crouch at the end of the Third Task I felt as if an adult other than Mrs Weasley and my teachers really cared about me." He paused, glancing up to sneak a look at her, and caught her dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief.

"Unfortunately," he continued, "Professor Dumbledore and I didn't have much contact during my fifth year at Hogwarts and I felt completely abandoned by him that year. Many of my friends thought my anger was directed mostly at Delores Umbridge, but in actuality I was terribly hurt by Professor Dumbledore distancing himself from me."

Harry waited until a small rumble of comments died down. Then, he continued, "It wasn't until I became completely and utterly depressed in the aftermath of the battle at the Ministry that Professor Dumbledore stepped back into my life. My sixth year at Hogwarts had started out miserably and I found myself in the Headmaster's office more times than I could count because my teachers were concerned for my well-being. When Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall took me off the Quidditch team and demanded that I spend at least an hour every afternoon in her office making up the work I had refused to do, I thought the world had caved in on me. However, that was the beginning of a friendship with Albus Dumbledore that only became more intense as the year went on.

"Professor Dumbledore often came to visit me in Professor McGonagall's office. At first, I was resentful of his intrusion into my life and didn't treat him very well, much to my Head of House's chagrin. Nevertheless, as time went on and Professor Dumbledore continued to take an interest in my progress, I came to see that he and Professor McGonagall really were on my side and I began looking forward to his frequent visits. He seemed genuinely pleased that I was finally recovering from my godfather's death and began making even more time in his busy schedule to monitor my academic progress.

"There came a day when I finally finished my work and didn't need to go to Professor McGonagall's office each afternoon. At first, I enjoyed devoting my extra free time to Quidditch practice and my studies, but soon I found myself missing my time with the two professors. Then a tragic accident took place which caused me to seek out Professor Dumbledore as one of the many solutions." At this, Harry looked at Ginny. She smiled sadly at him. "We met numerous times and as we worked out a plan to help the student, Professor Dumbledore and I became more than mentor and pupil… we became friends.

"Tragically, our friendship was to be very short, but not before we endured the Battle of Hogsmeade in which students and teachers alike joined together to keep Voldemort's Death Eaters from taking over the school." Harry paused as a shudder ran through mourners and he wondered if anyone would ever be comfortable enough to let Voldemort's name be just that—a name. "I then spent several weeks at Hogwarts after a short recuperation at my cousin's house. Those few weeks at the castle were the best I'd ever experienced. Every day Dumbledore and I would do something together, and it felt almost as if I was with my grandfather instead of the school's headmaster."

Harry stopped. A huge lump erupted in his throat and he had to swallow several times before he could speak again. "Then, on my seventeenth birthday, Professor Dumbledore gave me a day I will always treasure. He brought me here to Godric's Hollow to view my parent's graves and to personally tour the Potter Memorial. It was the best birthday ever for me, and I realize now how precious that day really was for on our flight back to Hogwarts, the two of us were captured by Death Eaters."

Harry stopped, nearly overwhelmed by the fury and helplessness that swept through him at the thought of their kidnapping. He closed his eyes and gripped the podium, willing himself to calm down enough to get through this part of his speech.

"The ensuing months in captivity are something I am still dealing with," he choked, now staring hard at Ginny.

She smiled at him and said, _It's almost over. You can get through it_.

Mentally clinging to her thoughts, Harry found the strength to go on. "They were months filled with pain and hunger and isolation so demoralizing that if I hadn't had Dumbledore's companionship and strength, I wouldn't have lived through it. Even though he was suffering as much as I, he found little ways to bring humour and comfort to our situation, always disregarding his own discomfort. He dried my wet clothes when our captors brought me back to our cell. He talked to me for hours about my parents and subjects we both found interesting. He helped me develop my wandless magic enough that after he succumbed to the spell that eventually took his life, I was able to carry on until we were rescued."

Here, Harry had to stop. He fumbled in a pocket for the handkerchief Mrs. Weasley had pressed into his hand that morning and used it to polish his glasses which had suddenly fogged over.

_It's all right to let us see you cry,_ Ginny's gentle voice told him. _If it helps you get through this, know that we're all sad, Harry. No one will think ill of you if you show how much you're hurting._

Harry closed his eyes and finally let a few silent tears course down his cheeks. It was a relief to let go of his tightly-bottled emotions, even just a little, and as he mopped his eyes he had to smile at the loud, fog horn-like sounds of Hagrid and Grawp sharing opposite ends of the same enormous handkerchief.

_Thanks, Ginny,_ he sent back to her.

Clearing his throat, he continued his remarks. "Everyone says Albus Dumbledore was a great man, but they never knew just how personable and loving he could be. I, personally, will remember that about him and the fact that he cared enough about me to ask permission rather than use his authority to take what he wanted from me… I will always remember him as a surrogate grandfather and my good friend."

Harry raised his wand and cancelled the Sonorus Spell as those gathered about him stood up and began to applaud. Embarrassed, Harry stepped away from the podium, hoping to take the attention from himself. He was heartened when several people rose to give their own testimonials.

Neville Longbottom spoke first. He told how Professor Dumbledore had taken interest in him as a first year and had personally shown him the contents of the Herbology aisle in the Hogwarts library after Professor Sprout had mentioned Neville's prowess in the subject. Hannah Abbott recounted how Professor Dumbledore had personally come to visit her home after Death Eaters had killed her mother. Madam Rosmerta spoke of her long friendship with Dumbledore. Professor Trelawney related the story of her hiring and how personally concerned Dumbledore had been about ensuring that she was protected from Dolores Umbridge after her sacking by the Hogwarts High Inquisitor. Several others added their stories as well. Finally, to Harry's surprise, Dudley Dursley stood up and walked to the podium. As he passed Harry, Dudley reached out and briefly gripped his shoulder.

Clearing his throat, Dudley said, "I never knew Professor Dumbledore, but the things I've heard about him in the last few hours and what I learned about his relationship with my cousin makes me rather sad that I was too short-sighted and self-centred to make his acquaintance as I was growing up." He paused and looked at Harry. "You're lucky to have been so close to him, Harry. He taught you things that helped you save the world, that helped you be a better man… things that my parents couldn't be bothered with because they were too busy teaching me to be selfish and to hate magic."

A ripple of shock ran through those seated amongst the graves. Dudley ignored it.

"I remember being very jealous of you, Harry, when we were eleven and twelve. You stepped off the Hogwarts Express every year with a smile on your face—at least until you saw my parents—even if you'd had a terrifying experience just before school ended. I think some of your happiness was because Professor Dumbledore was helping you learn the truth about your life before you came to live with my family and teaching you valuable lessons, like choosing what is right over what is easy." Dudley stopped and turned back to the crowd. "I hope Professor Dumbledore taught each of you something as valuable… as much as he taught Harry. I think he touched a lot of lives, including mine." Then, his ears turning as red as Ron's, Dudley left the podium and went back to his seat to a smattering of applause and murmured comments.

Harry scanned the crowd for signs that someone else wanted to say something. When no one appeared to be coming foreword, he turned to nod to the chamber musicians he had hired for this part of Dumbledore's service. The small group of Muggle-born violinists, violists, cellists and a string bass player began playing the professor's favourite piece—a pretty little tune by Mozart—as Harry lifted the urn from the table and lowered it by hand into the hole in front of the headstone. Then, stepping back, he raised his wand and pointed it at the mound of dirt beside the hole. The dirt rose into the air and slowly began covering the urn, eventually leaving a rounded mound as the only sign there was anything in the ground in front of the stone.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, I now commit you to the earth from which we all are made. May your next greatest adventure be one you want us all to share," Harry said, his magically enhanced voice loud enough for the other mourners to hear over the music.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, Interim Minister for Magic, now joined Harry at the grave.

"Let us take a moment to reflect quietly on how Dumbledore touched each of our lives," he said, bowing his head.

The music quieted but didn't entirely stop as everyone bowed their heads. A minute passed. Two minutes. Three…

Then the Minister intoned, "We will miss you, Professor. May you rest in peace."

With that, he strode down the aisle between the graves and chairs, down the hill and out of the cemetery. The other mourners rose and followed him, most of them Apparating away when they reached the square. Those who were left included Harry's closest friends and teachers, the people he had invited to his house for afternoon tea.

Harry was still staring at the tiny mound of dirt that covered Dumbledore's urn when he felt Ginny's hand slip into his. He looked down and gave her a wan smile that she returned with a watery one of her own. They stood, silently comforting each other for a time before Ginny broke the silence.

"It's finally, truly over," she murmured quietly.

Harry squeezed her hand. "Yes," he agreed with a sigh as he let his gaze wander over to the Potter Family crypt. "But I'm still going to miss them."

"I know," she said, and he felt her hand slide from his to come to rest at the small of his back. He put his arm over her shoulders, hugging her close.

They jumped when someone behind them cleared his throat.

"Now, isn't this a cosy sight," came the familiar sneering drawl that could only be Draco Malfoy's.

Harry turned to see his former school rival standing a little to the side, leaning heavily on an ornate cane. The two eyed each other for a moment before Harry let his face relax into a small smile.

"Draco, I'm glad you came," he said, genuinely meaning the words.

Draco's eyes widened. "You are?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"Yes," Harry replied. "You deserve the right to say good-bye to Professor Dumbledore as much as any of the rest of us."

"Glad you think so… Harry," Draco said hesitantly. He studied the new grave and ornate headstone for a bit. "He… Professor Dumbledore… understood me better than I think I understood myself."

"He saw the good in people," Ginny said, speaking for the first time. "He saw the good in you."

And to Harry's astonishment, she stepped from under his arm and walked over to Draco who was steadfastly looking at the grave. When she reached him, she put a hand on his arm and Harry was surprised that Draco neither flinched nor pulled away from her touch. Then he remembered her mentioning in her letters that she'd visited Draco regularly in the hospital wing at Hogwarts until he'd been released in April.

"Madam Pomfrey tells me you're nearly well," she said, causing him to look up. "I'm glad. You deserve a fresh start."

"You do," Harry added quietly, again meaning the simple words.

Draco sighed. "Thanks," he murmured, letting the word linger between them. He studied the hand on his arm, his expression unreadable. Finally he looked up at Ginny. "It's been hard these last few months," he admitted.

"It'll get better," she said with a sigh. "Each day gets a bit easier." And Harry knew she was thinking of Fred.

"If you say so."

Ginny glanced at Harry. "I do," she said firmly.

Draco shifted his cane to his other hand. "Enough of this nonsense," he said, sounding like his old self for a moment. He cleared his throat again. "Erm, what I really came for is to thank you for what you did that day. I… I… wouldn't have lived without your help."

"You're welcome," Ginny murmured softly. "I couldn't let you die, not after what you'd done in the crypt." She paused. "I couldn't let Theo or Blaise die either. All of you deserved a second chance at happiness."

"I wish other people thought like you do," Draco mumbled.

"They will, in time," Ginny said bracingly.

Draco's answer was only a huge sigh. Then looking up at Harry and Ginny, he added, "I… erm, I also want to thank you for testifying at my trial last week. Your testimony helped keep me out of Azkaban."

"You're welcome, Draco." Ginny's smile widened a bit as she glanced between the two wizards.

"We were hoping it would," Harry added sincerely.

Draco looked uncomfortable for a moment as he met Harry's gaze. Then he bowed his head and looked over Harry's shoulder towards the crypts standing on the hill.

More silence. Finally, Harry asked, "How's your mother?"

Draco smiled wanly. "Relieved the trial is over and glad to be away from Hogsmeade and my sick room."

"So… you're both living at Grimmauld Place now?" Harry inquired. He'd been so busy lately with the memorial arrangements and speaking engagements that he'd lost touch with those who weren't in his immediate circle of friends.

"For now," Draco answered, "until the Ministry releases us. There are still some things keeping us in London."

"And then?" Ginny asked. She had stepped back next to Harry and was holding his hand again.

"We've been allowed to keep one of Father's small foreign properties on the Continent," Draco explained. "We're planning to go there when things here are finally wrapped up."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You're not staying in England?"

Draco shook his head. "We… Mother and I, we want a fresh start. I want to finish school or at least take my exams. After that? We'll see." He glanced back at Dumbledore's grave and Harry noticed his hands were shaking as he shifted his cane again. "I need to go," he said finally, sounding tired.

Ginny responded, "Don't be a stranger, Draco."

A small smile played at the corner of Draco's lips. "I'll be back at least once for your wedding."

Harry felt his jaw drop as Ginny gave him a little push towards Draco. "Stop acting like a fish," she giggled.

Harry shut his mouth and closed the distance between himself and Draco. "Come back sooner, if you can," he said, extending his hand.

As he and Draco shook hands Theo and Blaise walked up to the grave. Asteria Greengrass was with them. She walked up to Draco and rested her hand on his back. Harry noted how much Draco leaned into her for support now that she was present.

"Your mother's ready to go, Draco," she said, nodding a silent greeting at Harry and Ginny. Blaise and Theo did the same.

"All right," Draco responded.

Looking between Draco and the three new-comers, Harry asked, "Are you certain you won't come back to the house for tea?"

Asteria shook her head and answered for all of them, "Thank you, but no. Mrs Malfoy asked that we decline."

Harry smiled his acceptance of her answer, remembering that he had seen some of the guests at the interment pointedly avoiding the Malfoys, Blaise and Theo. It was going to be a long time before the Wizarding world forgave the Malfoys for Lucius' part in the war, and his son was likely to bear the brunt of its censure for the rest of his life.

"Thanks again for coming," Harry said.

Draco nodded politely to Harry and Ginny and then, slipping his free arm around Asteria's shoulders, he followed his friends down the hill.

"Hmm." Completely gobsmacked, Harry watched them go. "When did they get together?" he mused aloud.

Ginny giggled. "About two months ago. Asteria started spending time with Draco while he convalesced in the hospital wing. She was the one who protected him against Pansy Parkinson the night she snuck into the hospital wing to finish what Draco's father started."

"I see." Harry shook his head in amazement. He was just beginning to realize that his decision not to go back to Hogwarts after the battle had separated him from the gossip grapevine and that Ginny and Hermione assumed he knew things about happenings at Hogwarts that he didn't.

"Is that why Pansy's name was splashed all over the _Prophet_ a couple of weeks ago?" he asked sheepishly.

"Amongst other things," Ginny answered vaguely. "That and her other trial for all the things she did as the lead student Death Eater at Hogwarts. She'd hex anyone who didn't think the same way she did, and get away with it nine times out of ten. I think she was harassing Draco for siding with Dumbledore long before she tried to kill him, though. He was different when he came back to school."

Harry cocked his head to one side. "What do you mean?"

"Starting in September Draco wouldn't have anything to do with Crabbe and Goyle," she said. "He, Blaise and Theo stuck together and more often than not, the three of them could be found protecting the first and second years from the older members of their House. Draco even seemed troubled by your kidnapping the times we accidentally met in the corridors. He always asked about the progress of the Order's investigation."

Ginny trailed off. A far-away, haunted expression appeared in her eyes and Harry knew it was time to change the subject.

"You're coming back to the house for tea?" he asked.

She giggled, the haunted look vanishing instantly. "Yes, of course I am, silly. Hermione told me a few minutes ago that Kreacher has everything laid out in the dining room, and chairs and tables set up in the garden just as you two requested. Are you ready to go?" she asked, her eyes still on Draco's retreating back.

Harry shook his head. "No. Could I have a few more minutes with Dumbledore?" he asked.

Ginny let go of his hand. "Sure. I'll tell everyone to go ahead. Will you be alright?"

He smiled sadly at her. "I think so," he told her truthfully. "I just… it's just hard, you know… saying good bye."

"I feel that way, too, sometimes," she said as she started down the hill. Then, she smiled. "Be sure to come back before Ron and George eat everything."

Harry smiled, too. In the last week, George had finally started acting a little like his old self. Well, at least he'd started eating like he used to. "Save me a plate, then?" he asked.

"I will," she called over her shoulder.

Harry stood watching her a moment longer, and then turned back towards Dumbledore's grave.

"Professor, I know you're in a better place now," he began as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "You looked so alive and whole when we met at Snitch's Rest with Mum and Dad. I hope you're happy where you are, because down here… well, sometimes it's hard to be that way."

Harry closed his eyes and let out a huge sigh. "The Battle of Godric's Hollow took so many lives on both sides, sir. Everywhere I go I'm reminded of someone I lost and it hurts so much! I look at George, or Dennis Creevey, who lost brothers. I encounter villagers who lost husbands, wives, siblings and parents… they're all hurting. I come up here to talk to Mum and Dad at the crypt and I see the newest graves, and I'm reminded all over again that this is the village where it all started and ended. It hurts so much, Professor. But as the months have passed and there are no more deaths or disappearances, I've come to realize that the casualties were all worth it. I've come to accept that there had to be losses on both sides in order for peace to take over the chaos Voldemort created with his narrow-minded ideas."

Harry stopped talking and looked around the graveyard. He knew the Wizarding part of the cemetery was now visible to Muggles because the village council had decided not to renew the concealment spells, thinking that it would be better for Wizard-Muggle relations to let everyone have access to the entire cemetery.

Finally giving in to his sorrow he added, "Sometimes I wish you were still here to talk to, like we did when I stayed at Hogwarts last summer. You were the best friend and Grandfather I could ever ask for…"

Harry sighed and reached over to touch the granite headstone. "Ginny says I obsess too much over the things I can't change. I know she's right, but sometimes I just can't help it. I find myself thinking in 'what ifs' which just perpetuates the sadness.

"What's funny, though, is how Kreacher acts when he catches me in a mood. It seems he's taken it upon himself to monitor me and then go running to Hermione to get her to come talk me out of my mood. She usually comes over with a stack of books she wants me to read and leaves them on the library table. The latest stack was all about the careers I can choose once I've done my NEWTs this summer."

Harry chuckled softly. "I know you'll be pleased that I've decided to take them in August, right after my birthday… the same week Dudley's sitting his A Levels. I've offered him the table in the library for his revising because he's still living with the Weasleys and finds the noisiness of The Burrow too distracting sometimes. Hermione whole-heartedly approves of the idea."

He took a breath to continue his musings, but let it out as two sets of footfalls interrupted his train of thought.

"Hey, mate," Ron said as he and Hermione came up on either side of Harry. "Hermione fixed you a plate and won't let me touch it."

Harry laughed aloud, feeling happy for the first time all day. Leave it to Ron to be grumpy about untouchable food. He turned to Hermione and gave her a one-armed hug. "I thought Ginny was going to make one up for me. What did you do to the plate?" he asked.

Hermione tried to keep a straight face as she answered, "You know that spell I put on the DA list in fifth year?" Harry nodded and she continued. "Ron became a 'GLUTTON' just now when he accidentally touched the plate."

"You didn't!" Harry chortled.

"Yeah, she did," Ron said, looking sheepish. "Felt right weird, it did to have those things popping up all over my nose."

"What did he have to do to cancel the spell?" Harry asked Hermione.

Ron answered for her, "Say I was sorry and hand the plate back to her."

"He figured it out quicker than Marietta did, because her 'SNEAK' has never quite disappeared," Hermione said, sounding smug.

Harry peered at Ron's face. "I think she's rubbing off on you, Ron," he said.

Ron just shook his head and asked, "You coming back with us, Harry?"

Harry patted the headstone one last time and with a flick of his wand sent the table and podium back to Gwenyn's attic.

He stood quietly for another moment before he said, "Thanks, you two, for helping me the way you did and for not giving up after Dumbledore and I were kidnapped. You're the best friends a bloke could have."

As he finished, Hermione threw her arms around his neck and began sobbing loudly.

"Now you've done it, Harry," Ron chuckled as he clapped Harry on the shoulder. "We won't see a dry eye for another twenty minutes."

Hermione raised her head and swatted Ron on the arm. "I can't help it… today's… today's an emotional day!" she retorted with a hitch in her voice. "And I'm allowed to be 'girly' on days like today!"

"She's right, Ron," Harry commented and Hermione smiled smugly at Ron. He backed a few steps away from Dumbledore's grave and Hermione let one arm fall away, only to swing it up to capture Ron around the waist. "I'm ready now," Harry said, and the three left the hilltop with Hermione still in the middle.

They dropped arms when they reached the cemetery gate because there was room for only one to pass through the opening. As he walked past the bushes where Ron had dumped Snape's body six months before, someone called out to them.

Turning towards the voice, Harry saw Aberforth Dumbledore leaning on the wall of the church. The three went over to him.

"That was a right pretty ceremony you gave Albus, Harry," the old wizard said approvingly. "A proper send-off, if you ask me."

Harry felt his face heat up and knew it was turning Gryffindor red. "Thank you, sir," he said suddenly finding the pavement beneath his feet rather interesting. "I just wish we could have done it sooner."

"No, you don't," Aberforth replied. "It wouldn't have meant as much if you'd done it before the war was over, and you know it."

Harry looked up, startled that he and the old wizard thought so much alike. "You're right. This was better."

"Glad we agree," Aberforth said as he pushed himself away from the church wall. "Well, I'd best be off. Won't be long before the regulars start banging the door down wanting something to quench their thirst."

"Thanks for coming, sir," Harry said, meaning it.

"You're welcome, Harry. See you around." And with that, Aberforth Disapparated, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione to go back to the wake at Gwenyn.

A few minutes later, the trio approached Harry's gate and Harry stopped to take in the scene. Six months ago the garden surrounding his house had been thigh-deep in snow that had drifted in piles next to the house. Today dappled sunshine filtered down through the ancient trees lining the garden walls to dance on a dozen or so tables spread out on the grass. Most of Harry's guests were still eating and talking. The scene filled him with a feeling he had seldom felt but was becoming more and more familiar with: peace.

As he pushed open the gate a bell sounded somewhere and Ginny came round the side of the house carrying an over-flowing dinner plate.

"Hi, you," she greeted him as Ron and Hermione joined hands and strolled off in the direction of the drinks table.

"Is that what I think it is?" Harry asked, pointing to the plate.

Ginny shook her head. "Nope. Ron dropped that one when he realized he'd touched something he shouldn't."

"I wish I could have seen that," Harry said wistfully.

"Oh, I'm certain you'll see it again. Hermione's determined to teach Ron a few things Mum never managed to," Ginny said with a small giggle. She slid her arm through Harry's and gave a little tug. "Come on, Harry. Let's go enjoy the party."

Harry allowed her to tow him towards his guests, savouring the beauty of the afternoon. One by one, he greeted his friends and teachers until at last he'd talked to everyone. Then, taking the plate from Ginny, he walked with her over to his favourite part of the garden, a bench surrounded by orange, yellow and red lilies that had a commanding view of the property and sat down to eat. Kreacher had outdone himself. The food was delicious.

With a contented sigh, Harry finally allowed himself to relax. It was good to be home.

**THE END**

**A/N:** **July 2010… **"The End." I never thought I'd get to write those words on this particular story, but I have and it's a rather lonely feeling. I've lived with this particular incarnation of Harry, Ginny, Neville, Hermione, Ron, and Dudley for so long that they've become part of my drive to work and my late-night musings when it's been too hot to sleep. It's been fun finding out how they have grown and changed during the course of these chapters and I think you'll agree with me that although there are things Harry still needs to work through, he and the others are weathering the results of the war pretty well.

Some of you have asked whether there is a sequel to this story in the works. The answer is "no." Instead, I've decided to work on and finish all the stories I abandoned when this one became my main focus. I have starts and half-written chapters for fifteen different stories, so I intend to keep posting for as long as it takes to finish all of them. I hope you'll all continue to read and review my work.

In the meantime, I need to thank some special people. First, my friend KEDme looked over this chapter just as she did the Aftermath. Thank you, KEDme, for your suggestions and help with tightening up the chapter. Your help is greatly appreciated. Second, my awesome beta, Aggiebell, has stuck with me throughout the writing of this story and I appreciate all that she's done to help me with it. Finally, I thank you, my readers, for the 200+ reviews you've given this story. Your kind words and creative criticism have helped me think many of aspects of the story through in greater depth and at times have caused me to change the direction I wanted to go with various characters. Because of you, I am definitely a better writer than I was when I started this story back in 2007.


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